Dragon Age- A Thedas Tale
by IAmElvie
Summary: This story is being written for fun; my AU. It is not canon. It will span before DAO through all three games and then we will see. If you know me, you'll know I've added my own flare and chars to the story which can change the way NPCs think or feel. Some DA2/DAI players will be met sooner. As always, mature readers only. Story begins in the Western Hills with something unexpected.
1. A Thedas Tale Ch1 - Western Hills

Dragon Age

A Thedas Tale

Ch 1 – Western Hills

Some days, it seemed like nothing could go according to plan. She'd taken a small shuttle from the Peacekeeper's bay planetside to meet with an informant. He was secretive and paranoid, demanding she come alone or he wouldn't be there. True to her word, she'd gone alone to meet up with Thorton but when she arrived at his coordinates only his corpse greeted her. And it didn't have much to say. There had been fresh spore not too far from her informant's gnawed on remains. It was obvious what his fate had been; now she would have to find some other means of obtaining information on the damned sith lord. On top of that, this morning she'd finally figured out what the strange feeling she'd been having for the past week was. The small life force within her was now strong enough for her to make sense of. She was pregnant.

Pregnant. That had been quite a shock and unexpected, though not unwelcomed. Master Kyrian Wythe was her fiancé as well as the Commander of The Peacekeeper. He hadn't liked the idea of her going alone, but he had faith in her abilities. And he should, she'd saved his ass more than once. That wasn't pride, it was simply stating a fact - not that she didn't tease him a time or three about it, for it was not in her nature to keep silent when a good ribbing could be had.

Normally, jedi did not have children…could not, but only because the food produced at the temples was infused with reproductive blockers. But, they'd been away from the temple for some time and had run out of the supplies the temple had stocked the ship with and had been forced to pick up more supplies along the way. She hadn't even thought about the consequences of eating outside food, until now. She'd wanted to have a family with Kyrian, but they'd planned to wait a few more years. That it was coming sooner did not bother her. What did bother her was she knew their child would be under close scrutiny by the Council. She had one of the highest midichlorian counts that they'd ever recorded and since she had been orphaned not long after birth, nothing was known of her lineage. Any child she had would fall under the Council's watchful eye.

The shuddering of her ship pulled her from her thoughts. She peered through the cockpit permaglass and her eyes narrowed. Lightning and plumes of what appeared to be colorful gas had surrounded her ship in less than a blink. It was the lightning that had struck her ship and rocked her back into reality. Alarms blared and her hands flew over the controls trying to gain control of the malfunctioning systems. "Peacekeeper, come in!" Silence greeted her. "Peacekeeper – do you read?" More silence. "Damn it! Peacekeeper – Kyrian, please respond. Some kind of storm just dropped down on me and took out my systems." Nothing she did jump started her ship. "Stay away from the storm. Do you hear me, Kyrian? We cannot risk the Peacekeeper. Oh shit…."

Her mouth fell open when a jagged tear formed in the middle of the colorful gas. Her ship rocked hard and hurtled towards the tear, being sucked into along with the colorful gas. She flung out a wave of power to push her ship away from the rip, but it was as if she was little more than a bothersome, ineffectual gnat. Lightning poured from the maw, striking her ship multiple times, the alarms and lights went out. "Backup power is failing. I'm being sucked through some kind of tear. Life support is offline. I need to conserve oxygen. I love you, Kyrian." She doubted the ship had enough power left to relay her words, but she could only hope.

A loud, unending, roaring sound and sonic booms tore through her head like daggers. She shielded herself and the shuddering ship with a burst of power and then closed her eyes to focus on slowing her bodily functions.

-BREAK ONE-

Gallagher Wulff pulled up the reins on his horse and held up his hand to halt his men. The sky to their right had gone from blue to green to a color almost purple, reminding him of a bruise. Wind whipped around them and the horses stamped their feet in agitation. "What kind of sorcery is this?" he mumbled.

"My lord! We should pull back," Dakon said over wind that had started to howl.

Rain pelted down, each drop stung with the force of its hit. Lightning flashed to the right, arching down to strike the land, the ground shuddering with each boom of thunder. Gallagher's mouth fell open when he saw the sky tear like an open wound. His horse backed up and tossed its head. A plume of colorful mist bled through the rip and some kind of object hurtled through. He raised his hand, twirled his arm and pointed away from the phenomenon. He wheeled his horse around and dug his heels into his mount's sides. As soon as they cleared the rain and wind he turned back around to see what was happening. These were his lands and he could not just stand idly by if his people were in danger.

They heard the impact of whatever it was that had fallen from the sky and could see black smoke in the distance. He glanced from the smoke back up to the sky to see the tear closing as if it had never been there. The sky remained purple where the rip had been, but the lightning soon stopped and the wind and rain began to slowly ebb. "Come. We need to know what fell from the sky."

"My lord…." Dakon said, wanting to warn against the idea, but the Arl was already gone. He nodded at the other men and kicked his horse into a run to catch up with the man he'd sworn fealty to.

Gallagher slowed his horse when he caught sight of twisted, metal debris. He followed the debris towards the smoke and found something he had no real way of describing. There wasn't much left of whatever the metal object had been - its frame had shattered, what remained of it defied explanation. He dismounted and moved closer to the ruinous wreck. He noticed something that looked somewhat like a chair, but little else was recognizable. He blinked when he caught sight of a body not far from the largest chunk of debris. A woman…but how…how could anyone have survived? Had she been inside of whatever that was? Or had she just had the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time?

He knelt down next to the body and gently turned her over onto her back. He would not abuse a lady, even in death. He sucked in his breath when he caught sight of her face. She was stunning, even smeared with soot. He did not recognize her face, not that he knew every single person on his lands, but he made frequent visits to his people and her face was not one he'd ever seen before. Her hair was light, he thought it might have been blonde, but the soot made it hard to know for sure. Her clothing was like nothing he'd ever seen before. She wore some kind of tunic that left her arms bare, but for a single band of gold that she had around her left upper arm that appeared to have a cat's head in the middle of the band. She had a matching gold band around her throat and matching gold cuffs on her wrists. It was obvious the woman came from money. The pants beneath the tunic were form fitting and she had feminine thigh high boots, trimmed in gold, that had armor plating bucked down her legs from her knees to the tops of her feet. He could not imagine ever using gold for armor plating, the metal was too soft, perhaps it was an alloy mix, but he knew little of smithing.

He pulled off his leather glove and held his hand out under her nose to feel for breath. Her breaths were too far apart for him to feel them right away and at first he thought he was mistaken on feeling her breath. He released a slow breath of relief when he realized she was alive. He wasn't sure how she got there or how she survived, but such beauty did not deserve death. Mayhap, he had been too long without a wife, but he would love to have such a treasure at his side.

"My lord, does she live?" Dakon asked quietly.

"She does, Dakon." He pulled his glove back on and slid his arms under her to pick her up. He rose to his feet and carried her to his white steed. "Dakon," he said turning to the younger man beside him. "Hand her up to me…gently."

"Of course, my lord," he said taking the woman from the Arl's arms. She was breathtakingly beautiful and he felt a little light headed until he realized he'd been holding his breath. He blinked when the Arl called his name sharply. Color flooded into his cheeks and he handed the lady up to his Arl. He cleared his throat and mounted his horse. There was little doubt in his mind what had happened today would never be spoken of outside of their small group. He also had no doubt that the Arl would have them dispose of all the debris so that no one would stumble upon it and draw attention to it. Thankfully, whatever that had been had crashed in a secluded area.

They returned with the Arl to the castle and as expected they were ordered to return to the site in question and destroy the debris. With a nod the men departed.

The majordomo and house keeper followed him up the wide, stone stairway to his chambers. They said not a word when he carried her through door that led to the adjacent Arlessa's chamber and lowered her down onto the bed his past two wives had used.

He turned to his housekeeper. "Darlinda, send a couple of your girls up. I would like the lady to be refreshed when she awakens. Have one of them remain with her – the elf, Sharyn, if you will. I want to be notified the moment she rises.

"Yes, my lord," Darlinda replied with a bow of her head. It had only taken one look at the lady on the bed to understand why the Arl laid her where he had. She pursed her lips to hold back a grin. The look on the large man's face spoke volumes. If he had his way, that woman would be the next Arlessa of West Hills.

Gallagher returned to his chambers and stepped behind the folded screen to remove his protective armor. "Winston, please see that I have a bath drawn and my armor cleaned."

"Yes, my lord," Winston stated with a bow of his head even though he could not see the Arl and then departed to perform his duties. He was not pleased that the Arl had put the woman in the Arlessa's chamber. She might have died a few years back, but he'd had a soft spot for her and it was not his place to say anything to his Arl. Mayhap, she will be married or want to return home after she awakens and the Arl would pursue her no further….and all would stay as it was.

After a refreshing bath, Gallagher tied his pants, buttoned up his doublet and pulled on his knee high, black leather boots. He gave his doublet one last tug to straighten it and headed for the Arlessa's bed chamber. He opened the door and caught sight of a leg before the gown was pulled down the unconscious woman's legs. "How does she fare?" he asked as he moved closer to get a better look at her. A breath slipped from his lips. She was a sleeping beauty…and blonde as he had suspected. He was thankful now that he'd kept his previous wife's clothing. The fit wasn't perfect, but it was adequate for now.

"She has not awoken, my lord. I do not know what ails her, but we have made her as comfortable as possible," Darlinda informed him.

He nodded his head. "I expected nothing less." He caught sight of the elf seated on the opposite of the lady's bed. "You may return to your duties, Darlinda. Have dinner brought up to the room, I will be staying here a while longer."

"Yes, my lord," she said with a bow of her head. She took one last look at the woman on the bed and then departed. She wondered if the lady would be a kind Arlessa or a stern taskmaster. She didn't have a stern look about her, but looks could sometimes lie. She chuckled under her breath. She was quite getting ahead of herself. He had said nothing of marriage, but his actions spoke louder than any words could.

He pulled a chair from in front of the fire over to the side of the bed and lowered himself into it. He raked a hand through his shoulder length, brown hair and leaned forward. He gently swept back a small lock of hair that had rested against her cheek. She looked to be about ten years younger than him. She was old enough to be taken seriously but young enough to still bear several children. His gaze ran down her figure. Her breasts were large – she may not even need a wetnurse. Her hips were wide enough to look as though his babes would pass without issue. He was a large man and his last wife had died birthing his son.

He shook his head. She wasn't even awake and he already had them married and having children. A man wants what a man wants. His brows furrowed. He did not even know if she was married. If she were, he would see if her husband would be willing to sell her to him. Not as a slave, but as a wife. She was sure to give him beautiful children.

The smell of food drew his eyes to the doorway. "You are relieved to eat your meal, Sharyn, then return to this chamber and resume your duty to the lady," he told the elf.

"Yes, my lord," Sharyn said with a bow. "I shall return posthaste." Her feet carried her swiftly out the door. It wasn't often the Arl paid her much attention and it felt awkward to be alone with him. Not that he'd ever tried anything with her. He was honorable for a human lord. But he was very big and his voice was very deep and frightening, even if he didn't intend it to be. Regardless, he had her loyalty without a thought. When he'd caught two of his soldiers harassing her and not accepting her answer of 'no', he had the two men publically lashed and exiled from his lands. She would never have expected him to have done what he did, but she owed him a debt she could never repay.

He shook his head when the skittish elf flitted out of the room. He'd tried to make her feel comfortable, but somehow always failed in the deed. She had been born in the castle. After her parents died from illness, he'd had Darlinda take over her care and train her to be a lady's handmaiden. She'd served his last wife, Freya, without fail. She had quickly become Freya's favorite handmaiden. She was the last of his wife's handmaidens left at the castle. The others had married and moved on, but he was glad that she'd stayed on.

He thanked the servants when they'd moved a small table next to him and settled the two trays of food on it.

It was the smell of food that brought her out of her meditation. She jerked up into a seated position and looked around, disoriented by confusion. She looked down to find out why she felt so restricted. A stiff band of material encircled her ribs. "Where am I? Where are my things?"

He blinked and looked up into her face. She'd moved faster than he had been able to track with his eyes. Her words, however, made no sense. "Forgive me, my lady, I do not understand what you have said."

She pursed her lips and reached back to untie the offending garment and lay it on the bed next to her. She breathed a sigh of relief. She pointed to the gown. "My clothes."

It was obvious she was not used to wearing a lady's attire. He pointed over to a stand that had been placed in the room. Her armor had been cleaned and now rested on the stand.

She followed the direction he pointed in and saw her armor, her weapons on the dresser behind it. But that still didn't explain where she was. Then it came back to her…the tear…she'd been sucked into through the tear and somehow survived the crash. She rolled out of the bed and ran to the window, but she could not see anything unusual.

She turned around and nearly bumped into the very large man. She looked up and pointed up at the sky. "I want to see the sky."

He could not understand her words, but did understand what she meant. He held the crook of his arm out to her. When she slid her arm through it, he realized she did, at least, know some proper protocol. "Follow me, my lady, and I will show you the sky." He walked her to the stairs and then glanced down. She was not wearing slippers and he doubted his former wife's would fit her. He swung her up into his arms and carried her down the circular stairs. A servant opened the door for him and he carried her out the door so that she had a view of the sky. A sky still bruised by what it had gone through.

She had been caught off guard when he picked her up, she'd wanted to refuse but common sense caused her to hold her tongue. The floor had been cold and unforgiving. She wrapped her arm around his neck to old on as he descended the stairs. The room they'd entered looked as old fashioned as the room they'd been in. Everything was made out of stone, or wood or metal. There were no electronics of any kind. Even the most backwater planets she'd been to had some kind of electronics. This place was unlike anything she'd ever seen.

When they stepped outside she looked back over his shoulder and blinked when she realized she was looking at a castle. A castle….she hadn't even thought they were real…just stories. She blinked. Sweet hell – wherever she was - it was a land lost in time…a land with no refreshers. When he came to a stop she looked up at the sky and saw the purple discoloration, but no sign of the tear she'd come through. "Shit… she murmured.

Her tone told him all he needed to know about the word she'd mumbled. "I'm sorry if you were hoping for a way back home, but I'm not displeased that you are here with me." He heard her belly growl and saw the flush creep into her cheeks. "Come, we shall adjourn to the keep and feast. My belly is as hungry as yours," he admitted.

Back in the Arlessa's room he settled her on the bed enough to pull the chair Sharyn had used up to the table next to his. He picked her back up and settled her in the chair.

She looked into his piercing blue eyes, grinned and shook her head. "I can walk, you know."

He had little doubt she was saying something about being carried. "Mayhap, I just enjoy holding you." Unless the sky ripped open again she was here to stay and needed to learn the language. He began by pointing to each type of food on the platter and telling her the word for it. As they ate he pointed to other items in the room and named them for her.

Within a few weeks she knew enough of the language to communicate. She's always been a quick study and as a diplomat she'd learned close to twenty languages. She'd also learned by then that there was no one like her here. There were magic wielders called mages that drew upon the power of the dream realm…the fade to use magic…or at least that was how she understood it. Mages were feared and locked away in circles to practice their magic and keep the people safe from them. Would they try to do that with her if they found out she was different? She was uncertain what to tell him, because from his point of view it would be unbelievable.

At some point during the day she would retire to the gardens to meditate under a sky that now showed no signs that anything had ever happened. The tear never reopened and if it ever did she had no way of reaching it. On top of that there was no guarantee the tear would lead back to her when…it could lead to another, more alien when. This place…this land was her new reality – one that was hard to get used to. The worst was sitting on a chair with a hole in it over a large bowl to take care of business…and no water, sani-cleanse or toilet paper to use. She'd had to resort to collecting and washing large leaves every few days, because she refused to reuse a rag. After a couple of days of sitting the leaves wilted just enough to become soft but not fall apart. She could only hope that either there wasn't a winter here or that it was short in duration.

Three months later, Gallagher had asked her to marry him. She liked him, she'd even come to care about him. He was a kind and generous man. And truth be told, she was attracted to him. But a part of her still longed for what could never be. It was too painful to close that chapter of her life, but the baby growing inside her is what pushed her to honestly consider his offer. Regardless, she would not consider marrying him without telling him the truth about where she came from and what she was. It was not in her to deceive him even if telling him was the biggest gamble she'd ever made. There was every chance he would cast her out and she had no place else to go.

As expected, he was alarmed at first; though he showed no signs that he would send her packing. She showed him her lightsabers and what they could do. She explained the differences between what she was and what a mage was. Her people drew on the living energy around them. There was no fade, no spirits, no demons…at least not in association with her powers. She explained about where she came from and how her sky ship was pulled through the tear into his world. Once she'd answered as many questions as she could in a way that he might understand she then told him about her fiancé and the baby she now carried. That gave him more pause than anything else she had told him. But, in the end, he told her he would claim the child as his own whether she married him or not. Those words, more than anything else he'd said, melted her heart and she accepted his offer.

The banns were posted and four weeks later they were wed. She'd met their neighbors, the Teyrn and Teyrna Cousland of Highever and their young son Fergus. The Tyrna, Eleanor, was a couple months farther along in her pregnancy than she was. Gallagher was telling everyone how excited he was about being a father again and her heart went out to him. Never once, even in the privacy of their bed chambers, did he ever bring up the fact that he was not the baby's biological father. To him the baby was as much his as if he'd sired it himself.

Nobles came from all over Ferelden to witness their nuptials, as was customary if there were no pressing issues. Arl Eamon and his new bride Isolde and his younger brother Teagan, Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir, his wife Teyrna Celia and their young daughter Anora, along with several other Arls and Banns. The king of Fereldon, Maric, had also come for the wedding and brought his four year old son, Cailan, along with an entourage of knights. Being in the presence of royalty was nothing new to her, as a diplomat, her services were often needed to help settle disputes or sooth ruffled feathers. She did not bow or scrape to nobility, but she did show a modest deference if warranted.

There was an odd bit of tension between Eleanor and Maric. Neither made it obvious, but her senses ran deeper than the eye could see. There was a story there, though she doubted she'd ever discover what it was. She developed a fast friendship with Eleanor during her stay. She had a lot in common with the woman who also knew a lot about battle. They shared stories, though she was careful to make sure her own stories aligned with what was common in this age. Sith became mages, ships were water ships not air ships and the like.

At one point during the stay the women started sparring with daggers, each having a very different style. They eagerly showed each other the methods they had learned to broaden both of their abilities. When she switched to swords, Maric challenged her to a sparring match. Everyone expected her to gently turn him down or let him win, but she did no such thing. When she disarmed the king and swiped his feet out from under him with a low, twirling kick, she held her hand out to help him back up. He had accepted her hand, laughed, bowed to her and told her she needed to get with him and show him how to fight like she did before he went off to find a drink.

She'd earned a lot of respect from those that had witnessed the match. Even her own soldiers saw her in a different light now. She knew they had thought she was daft in the head after watching her do her flips, bends and movements on the strange fur covered wooden beam that had been made for her and even more so after watching her swing her arms and legs at a hide covered wooden dummy. She had grinned, knowing they finally understood that her movements had a purpose and could be used in a fight.

Gallagher had sighed in relief when he realized his wife, Staria, had earned the king's respect rather than his ire for showing him up in front of the other nobles.

Four weeks later, their guests left and she'd promised to keep in contact with Eleanor. Which she did. A few days after their departure she sent a messenger off with her first correspondence to the Teyrna. She figured the messenger would arrive about the same time as the larger party and thought Eleanor would get a kick out of that.

In the privacy of their chambers she continued to hone her powers and lightsaber defenses. Her husband seemed to enjoy watching her. So much so, indeed, that he would toss her on the bed and make love to her until they were both exhausted. There was no denying that she missed Kyrian, but over time she'd come to love the man that had become her husband. It wasn't the same kind of love that she had for Kyrian, but it was a love of caring and contentment. He was a good man and a thoughtful lover. That he was taller and wider than anyone else around him just meant that he was a mountain she could climb and she did so often.

A couple of months later their daughter was born. She had recently received a missive that Eleanor had given birth to a boy that they'd named Kael. She wrote back and told her about the birth of Lorianna. Three weeks later another missive arrived, this one delivered via royal knight. King Maric requested the honor of having their children betrothed. She'd discussed it with her husband. It was obvious he was pleased with the match, but she could not bring herself to force her child to wed anyone. She replied back to the king stating that while she was pleased with his generous offer, she wanted her daughter to choose her own husband. She did, however, hope that they would be able to have their children spend time together over the years to see if feelings developed between them.

Several weeks later she received a similar letter from Eleanor and replied back telling the same thing she'd told the king.

After Lorianna turned two years old an entourage of knights escorting young Prince Cailan arrived at the keep along with a missive from the king. They stayed for two months before starting their long journey back. She and her husband had been impressed with the young prince and both agreed that boy must lead a lonely life to give so much attention to a toddler. It was quite obvious he'd been bowled over by their daughter's cherubic beauty and charm, even as young as she was; she had a way with people and the young prince was no exception. He'd been willing to do whatever she wanted, even if it meant playing with dolls or playing make-believe. The following year it was their turn to bring their daughter to the royal castle for a couple of months. She accompanied her daughter, while her husband stayed to maintain the land.

A similar arrangement had been made with Eleanor, which allowed her to spend time with her best friend. Two months out of a year was not nearly long enough, so they agreed on three months. It was as much for themselves as their children.

It was during the journey to the royal castle that she realized she was with child again. Not one child – but two life forces could be felt. She would be having twins.

Much to her surprise, Gallagher allowed her to name their son Kyrian. She didn't make the request because she was pining over a lost love, but because she had robbed him of his daughter and giving her son his name was the only thing she could do to pay back, in some small way, what she'd taken from him. Her husband had understood her rationale and supported her in what she felt she had to do. Their daughter she named Laura Rose.

She started training her daughter at three years of age, shortly after the birth of her twins, though she'd started showing signs of being energy sensitive at a much younger age. The mind had to be mature enough to have a basic understanding before training could begin.

Over the years she'd developed a caring relationship with her husband's other children: Wilhelm, the oldest, Izot, his daughter, and Berchan, the youngest of his children with his previous wives. It hadn't taken them long to warm up to her. She had been twenty five when she met Gallagher and he had been thirty. His eldest had been fifteen, and left shortly after meeting her to return to squire in the king's army; his daughter six and his youngest son, Berchan, had been four. She had discovered that having children in your teens was commonplace here, likely because many did not live to old age. From what she had seen so far, old was considered to be between forty and fifty and few lived past sixty. Where she came from the average human lived to 110, with some living past 120. Jedi, if they were not killed in battle, could live up to 25% longer than the average of their species; the midichlorians in their blood replenishing their health and helping to prevent illness ensured a longer life.

She trained both Izot and Berchan in her style of fighting. Though they were children, she wanted them to know how to defend themselves, even if they found themselves weaponless. The training was all it had taken to win Berchan's favor. Izot required a bit more finesse, but diplomacy was her job and she was damned good at it. Before long, the younger two children were calling her mother. She didn't mind. This was her life now and they were her family. The children had accepted Lorianna and the twins without thought. They loved them dearly and Izot loved to mother the little ones.

But, Berchan, like his older brother, left when he turned fifteen, to squire to a lord in the king's army. It would be years before his squiring was up and he could return for anything more than a visit. That was not something she was looking forward to with Kyrian.

By the time Angelia was five it was obvious she had stronger feelings for Kael than Cailan, but she continued the visits with prince, because a five year old could not truly know their heart and she did not want to close any doors for her daughter. She supposed her daughter favored Kael simply because he was more daring and eager to help her find ways to get into trouble. Cailan was more reserved and cared more about books and fantasy adventures to real life adventures.

She had begun Laura's training at three and her son's training at four because he had been far more excitable as a toddler than his sister had been. She and her husband had quickly realized that there would be no hiding the fact that his youngest children were different with the household staff. So, they'd carefully explained who and what the Arlessa and their children were and emphasized the difference between being a jedi and being a mage. She hated parlor tricks, but she showed them her power. There were no hand signs, no spoken spells, no staff and no colorful plumes of magic, just things moving on their own. She held no link with the fade and was in no danger of being possessed. Since she'd practiced shielding her mind since she was a child and it was one of the first things she taught her children.

They had utmost faith in their staff's silence and knew everyone of them would protect the family with their lives without a thought. There was no household that would treat them with even half the respect they got from the Arl and Arlessa. Here, they were part of the family. A paid part, but family all the same and many of them had grow up here. Up until the day they'd explained things to the staff, Sharyn was the only person besides her husband who knew who and what she was. She'd developed a close bond with the elven woman and she was rarely far from her side. She'd helped her adjust to a new life after she first arrived and she was the only handmaiden she'd allowed her husband to assign to her. She did not need personal servants, but she did need a friend and Sharyn filled the spot nicely.

-BREAK TWO-

"You are more beautiful that your mother," Cailan blurted out, his cheeks burning.

Lorianna looked up from the book she'd been reading aloud to Cailan about a Prince riding a gryphon and leading the grey wardens on an epic crusade. She smiled at him, her dimples peaking out. "Just wait until I'm grown up – I'll really knock your socks off," she teased. She knew she was pretty, even at only six years old. The looking glass could not tell a lie – unless it was magical.

He blinked. She spoke in the same odd manner as her mother, but it intrigued him rather than put him off. When he'd first been told he was to visit her when she was a baby, he'd done so grudgingly. He knew his father thought she'd be a good match for him. But what interest could a six year old have in a two year old? But she was nothing like he imagined her to be when he met her. She could talk nearly as well as him and was quick witted. She was more like a short child than a baby. Her pale blonde hair, similar to his own, was tied up on either side of her head and hung like small horse tails. Her large eyes were sky blue with darker blue rings around them and every time she smiled, charming dimples popped out. He found himself willing to do anything she wanted to make her happy, whether it was picking flowers, playing with her dolls or sneaking in the larder and stealing cookies. Before his two months were up he knew he would accept a betrothal if one could be agreed upon. She was far more fun than Anora. Each year, he was more drawn to her in the time they spent together. And despite Loghain pushing at his father for a match, he knew his father was still hoping a match could be made with the Arl's daughter. "Then I'll have to make sure I always carry an extra pair when I'm near you," he teased.

She arched a brow and flashed a dimple. "Only one pair? I fear you will find yourself more barefoot than not."

"Is that so bad?" he shot back. "I used to run barefoot all the time as a child."

She pursed her lips. "Just watch where you step."

He grunted. It was Ferelden and dog dung peppered the land. "You have a point," he conceded. It was far from the first time he'd stepped in the unmentionable, barefoot or otherwise. Unlike most girls of noble stature she did not wear dresses. In this way, too, she was like her mother, who preferred to wear tapered, form fitting pants with a knee length embroidered tunic, belted at the waist. And, like her mother, if she left the house, she did so with a dagger on each hip.

"Oh, there you are," Anora said drolly as she stepped into the chamber and caught sight of them sitting in the pillowed, oriel window. She pursed her lips and frowned. Her father wanted her to marry Cailan, do whatever it took to make him want to marry her, but how could she when he seemed enamored by that child? She didn't particularly want to marry him, but doing so would make her a princess and that was something every girl wanted to be.

Cailan looked over at the Anora. She always seems so aloof. She was fifteen to his ten, but looked and acted older, with her dark blonde hair pulled back tightly in a bun, her walk slow and deliberate, a matronly dress, her hands held out in front of her and her nose all but in the air. She was pretty enough, but if he had to choose between her and Lorianna, there was no choice. He spent a lot of time with Anora now that she and her father were staying in Denerim, but he did not like her interfering with his time with Lorianna, he didn't get to see her very often. He was looking forward to next year when it was his turn to go visit her at West Hills. "It appears that we were lost, Lor…and now we have been found." He leaned over to whisper in her ear. "It would have been nice to have been lost longer." He grinned at her giggle and looked back at Anora. "It is time then?"

She inclined her head. "Yes, your highness. The Arlessa sent me to inform you that they would be leaving shortly. You must make haste, Lorianna." She bit back a grin. She would have a little over eight months without the child's interference before he trekked off to Western Hills. She didn't dislike Lorianna. She was too nice to dislike and if her father wasn't pushing her so hard, she wouldn't have cared if Cailan and Lorianna became betrothed. But she would do what her father wanted and that meant the girl was an obstacle. "It was nice spending time with you, Lorianna. I will leave you two to your farewells." She inclined her head to Cailan and departed.

"I hate it when you have to go," he sighed wistfully. He knew he wasn't the only match lined up for her and he wanted to ask her how she felt about him, but she held his heart in her hands and he didn't want to risk it bleeding. Unlike Anora, she didn't treat him with deference. To her he was only Cailan, friend, playmate and co-conspirator. That was another thing he loved about her. She liked him for who he was. He could be himself around her and she didn't judge him. If she thought he was wrong she was not afraid to tell him and if she needed him to look at something from another prospective, she was good painting the picture she wanted him to see. There was no deceit, no putting on airs and no games…at least not the mental variety. She treated the servants kindly, asking rather than ordering or doing for herself when she was in a position to do so. She took the time to get to know them and they adored her. The only person who didn't adore her was Loghain, but he suspected that was only because Loghain wanted to see him with his daughter.

She set the book beside her and took his hand. "You'll be in West Hills before you know it. I've got a new mount and I can wait to test him against yours!"

He grinned. "No more ponies for you?"

"No more ponies. I call him Shadow, because when he runs all you see is his shadow," she told him with a grin.

His blue eyes sparkled. "Challenge accepted, my dear. My Minstrel against your Shadow!"

Her smile widened. Cailan called his gelding Minstrel because his buttocks sang far more than they should. But he was fleet, so he was forgiven. She nodded. "To the winner goes a boon. You have eight months to figure out what that will be."

He already knew what he wanted it to be. A kiss. Freely given. "So let it be."

She grazed her fingertips against his familiar cheek. Not only because she knew him well, but because someone else close to her wore the same face. If it weren't for the fact that Kael's hair was golden blonde, they could pass as twins. "You should ask your father if he will let you get to know your brother. I think you'd get along well together."

He blinked, his hand tightening on hers and shook his head. "I don't have a brother. I wish I did, it's infernally boring here by myself."

She tilted her head and looked at him with confusion. "You mean you don't know about him? That's not right; you have the right to know him. He's family."

His brows drew together. "What are you talking about? Who do you think is my brother?"

"I -," she frowned. "But he wears your face…Maric's face. I know I'm not wrong," she said with a shake of her head.

"Lor…" he groaned. "Who?"

She blinked. "Oh – Kael."

Kael. He knew that name well. It was the name of the other proposed betrothal. The other boy she spent time with. "Kael is a Cousland – Bryce is his father. You must be mistaken." While he wouldn't put it past his father to seduce Eleanor, he could not picture her straying from a husband she loved.

She shrugged and shook her head. "Am I ever mistaken?" she asked matter of fact.

His lips pulled into a frown. She did have a way of knowing things. It was what made him comfortable sneaking around with her, because she always seemed to know if someone was nearby so they could make a fast getaway. "Well, there was that time -" No, that didn't count. She'd told him ahead of time they would get caught, but she'd talked him into it anyway. "I suppose not," he replied when she arched her brow at him. "But Eleanor would never…"

"Eleanor would never what?" she asked curiously.

Sometimes it was hard to remember she was only six years old. "He looks just like me?"

She nodded her head emphatically and squeezed his hand. "If you stood in front of a mirror you would be seeing him. The only difference is that he's got golden blonde hair, lighter than his mother's."

He'd overhead much over the years, there wasn't else to do when he found free time. If she was right, then there must be a story behind the affair. And he intended to try to find out what it was. "What's he like?"

She pushed a strand of wavy, pale honey colored hair behind her ear. "He manages to get me into all kinds of trouble. He doesn't listen to me as often as you do, so we find ourselves getting scolded more often than I like. And oh boy, Nan is the best at it. She knows how to make someone feel this big," she said pinching her fingers close together. "But, he takes the blame for it each and every time without a thought." She laughed softly. "And well he should, since we wouldn't have been in that pickle if he'd have only listened to me."

If Kael had golden blonde hair it was doubtful Bryce was his father. Bryce had reddish-brown hair, as did his older son, Fergus. Eleanor had dark blonde hair. His father had light blonde hair, as did he. It was far more likely for Eleanor to have a lighter blonde haired child if his father had sired the child. But surely someone would have noticed if the child looked like Maric. And servants were known for their gossiping ways. Then again, the servants are treated well at Highever and may well value their position more than gossip. He would have to look into her claims. "Then he should learn to listen to you more often."

She gave a firm nod. "He should," she agreed quickly. She hadn't a clue what she set into motion. She did not understand the ramifications or why things were the way they were. She only knew that family had the right to know each other. She also wasn't sure why no one else seemed to see what she did? Perhaps, people saw only what they wanted to see or believe. She squeezed his hand. "I should go before mother has to come looking for me."

"I know," he said quietly. With her hand still in his, he led her from library alcove to find her mother.

-BREAK THREE-

She reined Shadow in once they'd reached the spring. Unlike with that first race she'd had with Cailan, she never again held her gelding back. She'd only held him back that first time because she was curious as to what Cailan's boon would be. She had been surprised to find out that it had been a simple kiss, freely given. So she acquiesced and brushed her lips against his. To that end, Cailan was the giver of her first kiss and from that time on, he'd found a reason to kiss her each time they got together. Not that she minded, in fact, the older she got the more she liked them. This year he had surprised her when his tongue stroked hers. She wasn't blind, she had seen people kissing like that – even her parents, but it had never occurred to her to kiss in that manner until Cailan's fervent kiss. But that kiss had awoken something in her and she wondered what it would be like to kiss Kael in such a way. She looked over at Kael, grinned and threw her leg over the saddle to dismount.

She didn't know if anyone else knew about this spring, but she considered it her spring. Cailan and Kael were the only two she'd ever showed the spring to. She hadn't even taken her siblings here. She loved her siblings, but this was a special place to her. A place for her to get away and have some _me_ time. She'd been willing to show Cailan and Kael because they weren't here for long, so she still had plenty of _me_ time. Though, she never left the keep without Legion, her mabari hound, at her side. If she didn't take him, her parents would have forced her to take a guard and that simply wouldn't do.

Earlier this year, Cailan had acted strangely at the spring. Normally, they threw off their clothing and hopped into the warm bubbles without a care. This time he flushed and stammered and wouldn't join her until she turned her back to him. She did so, but she could not stop herself from peeking and when she saw that part of him standing proud as he removed his trousers, she understood why things had been awkward for him this time. When he kissed her this time it had been different too. There had been an urgency that was lacking before that made her body heat up. When her body had slid against his slick muscles, she felt sensations she'd never felt before.

She loved him, maybe not in the same way as she loved Kael, but she trusted him and it hadn't occurred to her to push him away, not when her body was warm and achy. His hands had skimmed over her body, send small spirals of heat through her and when his head dropped low to draw the tight bud of her nipple into the heat of his mouth she was lost. She remembered how he'd sat her on a small, flat rock ledge and told her he wanted to try something he'd heard about. By then, she was putty in his hands and when he pulled her to the edge of the ledge and spread her thighs, she didn't think anything of it. Sweet stars, what his lips and tongue had done to her. At first it had been only pleasant until he hit something that had sent torrents of pleasure washing over her. She had gripped his head, holding him prisoner against her until she fell into an abyss she never knew existed. But still, there was an empty ache and when she'd told him he'd smiled softly at her and said he could relieve that emptiness if she'd allow him to make love to her. And so she had. What started out as painful had become something beautiful that gave her a very different kind of pleasure.

Cailan had formally asked her to marry him while he was buried deep in her heat. But she couldn't. Not yet. She had to be sure of how things stood with Kael before she could make that choice. He'd told her he understood and would not push her for an answer, but he had continued to court her publically and make love to her privately. They had taken each other's virginity and that would always mean something to her, he would always have a place in her heart, no matter how things turned out. She knew he loved her, he'd told her so as often as he could, as far back as she could remember. He'd told her he knew he wanted to marry her when he'd first met her and that would never change. And she loved him. It would be a good match. Perhaps, not a true love match on her side, but a love match all the same. It was far more than most people were able to have. Except – she loved Kael in the same way Cailan loved her. But Kael loved her like a sister and not a woman.

She was fifteen now and that had happened when she was fourteen. While her mother assured her she had plenty of time, it was customary for girls her age to at least be betrothed, and most girls married between fourteen and sixteen. She knew she would have to make a decision soon, especially since Loghain was still pushing Anora on him and he couldn't hold out forever or he'd offend his father's friend.

She took a deep breath and focused on the present. She pulled her clothing off slowly, starting with her boots and pants. Her breasts had grown far larger since she'd last visited the spring with Kael. And she'd hoped he'd finally see her as a woman that he could love as much as she loved him. She watched the heat build in his bright blue eyes with each piece of clothing that fell to the ground. She felt herself go lightheaded and realized she'd been holding her breath. She inhaled sharply and slowly unbuttoned her tunic after her dagger laden belt hit the ground.

Kael had been fighting his feelings for Lorianna for years. He knew his parents wanted the match, but he also knew his king wanted a match with Cailan. Who was he to stand in the way of the Prince and his King's wishes? He was only a spare Teyrn heir. In the past, focusing on the fact that she would be the Prince's bride had always cooled his ardor, but today that failed to happen. His body roared to life and no amount of will could keep his arousal and need for her in check. One look at her and he knew he could no longer fight what she made him feel and one way or another he would know if she felt the same for him this day. He removed his doublet, followed by his shoes and then untied his pants and stepped out of them. He looked at her intently as he stood proudly before her. He looked for any sign of disgust or anxiety, but saw none. He felt himself thicken when her gaze lowered to his arousal.

When she rubbed her thighs together he wondered if he was affecting her in the same way she was affecting him. When her gaze lifted to meet his any concerns he had faded. Her sky blue eyes were glazed with a burning hunger that matched his own. He pulled her into his arms, pressing her body against his with a groan as he captured the back of her neck and claimed her parted lips. His tongue met his halfway and he nearly lost all reason. While he still had control he pulled back to look into her eyes. "I'm through fighting what I feel for you, Lor. I love you. I always have." He loved her too much to make love to her without the intent to marry her. He dropped down to one knee his gaze fell to her fleece covered mound. He swallowed hard and forced his gaze upwards. "I have known you and loved you all my life. There has never been anyone for me but you. It was not my place to love you when our King chose you for the Prince, but I will no longer step aside, not if there is a chance I could have you as my own. Will you, Lorianna Sky Wulff, consent to be my wife?" This was not how he'd ever imagined proposing to her - in naught but his birthday suit. But they'd come to a point of no return. He was either going to make love to his betrothed or he would make love to her as a friend that he loved with all his heart. But he had to know before things went any further, if only to try to protect his heart from further pain.

She looked down at his golden waves of hair, her heart slamming in her chest wanting to hear what was coming as much as she wanted to feel his breath and the touch of his tongue against her. She met his molten blue eyes when his gaze lifted to meet hers. "Kael Bryce Cousland – you have had my heart since I was two years old. And I should be furious at you for never showing me how you felt about me, but honestly – right now I am relieved to hear words I never thought to hear fall from your lips. There is nothing in Thedas that would stop me from marrying you. I only ask that you allow me the courtesy of telling Cailan in person before we announce our formal betrothal."

He wrapped his arms around her hips and laid his head on her lower belly. She would be his wife. "I will grant you that," he murmured. Though he knew it would be hard not to shout the news from top of his lungs everywhere he went. He wanted the world to know how much he loved his betrothed. And he was not known for his patience. But for her – he would try. He turned his head and kissed her lower belly. His hands slid down the backs of her thighs to spread them wider. He lowered himself, to rest his haunches on his calves, and drew a path down her belly with his tongue to her pale honey fleece. He'd never even kissed another woman until her, but he'd found a rather interesting book in his grandfather's library that showed him a great many things he intended to do with his betrothed.

His hands slid up her thighs to separate her soft folds. He rubbed his thumb over the bud that was swollen for him. She moaned and slipped her hands through his hair. He allowed her to feel the heat of his breath before his tongue flicked around the area the book said pleased a woman the most. He felt her hands grip his head with a frustrated cry and he gave into her need. His hands roamed over her thighs and the firm mounds of her ass while he made love to her with his lips and tongue. When her body stiffened he thought he might have done something wrong until he felt her hands grip his head tighter. Her cry of release was sweeter than any minstrel's song. He slowly eased his movements as the book had said until she shied away from him. He kissed her soft fleece and then her belly before he rose to scoop her up into his arms and capture her lips.

He carried her to the spring and lowered them into the water's heated embrace. He was more than grateful for the years of training that had honed his muscles. Carrying her might have been more awkward if he'd been a scrawny lad. As he lowered her, she wrapped her legs around his hips. He groaned at the feel of her heat pressed to his arousal. He gripped her ass and rocked her against length until they were both trembling with need.

He slowly sank into her tight heat. She stiffened a moment from the discomfort and then relaxed against him. He felt her muscles stretch around him, clinging to every inch of him, and a pleasure unlike he'd ever felt before. He would stay buried in her forever if he could. Now he knew why his brother and his new wife slipped away so often. He regretted that he only had these three months with her and that he would have to leave her behind for another year. He pushed the thought back. Next year they would post the banns and be married shortly thereafter. She was worth the wait.

The pleasure was too intense and too new; he knew he would not be able to hold out much longer. When her body stiffened and clenched him like a fist he flew over the abyss with a harsh cry of release. He was relieved when she followed him over; riding him hard until he'd spent himself in the depths of her heat. They clung to each other as their bodies cooled and their heartbeats slowed.

Now that he knew the pleasure of being in her arms, knew that she loved him as much as he loved her , and knew that she would be his wife, there was no way he'd be able to keep his hands off of her. There would be no keeping their relationship a secret. But he'd explain why they were waiting to post the banns. He knew their families would understand. And if she were to grow round with his babe, they would marry sooner, regardless whether she'd told the Prince or not. His child would not be born a bastard just because of some sense of loyalty. He was willing to give her the time she requested, but that was where he'd draw the line.

They'd spent a lazy afternoon at the spring making love while Legion dashed around chasing squirrels and their mounts grazed. After they'd finally dressed, he noticed one thing that differed his betrothed from his brother's wife and his mother. After a long day in the bed chamber the other women would be walking funny for some time, not so with his Lorianna. Her body was honed and long hours in the saddle had her muscles well used to being mounted. As much as he loved the mastery she had of her body and her nearly inhuman agility, it would have polished his pride if she'd walked funny like the other women did. Then again….oh yeah…the tradeoff was worth it.

When they returned to the stables, she shooed away the stable lads and they brushed down their horses before heading into the keep. Like Staria, she preferred to do for herself whenever possible and the servants – er staff respected them for that. In fact, over the years he'd taken a page from her book and started doing more for himself. It gave him a better sense of independence and the Highever servants…staff, as his betrothed referred to them, appreciated their lightened work load.

As he grew older some of the women that worked for them had started flirting with him and in some cases throwing themselves at him, but his heart had already been claimed and he could not bring himself to even consider their offers. There was only one girl for him and now she was his. He knew who and what she was, he'd known as far back as he could remember. And he knew that if others found out what she was they would fear her and call her a witch or a mage, but she was neither. Regardless, he would defend his wife with his life. He also knew that she, her mother and her younger siblings had fought alongside the Arl and his soldiers to defend Craighorn Keep from the Avvar and Chasind.

Whispers spread like embers about glowing blades and witches of the hills that could kill or send men flying with nothing but a thought. The Wulff's went to battle with their heads covered; no face or name was ever put to the Witches of the Hills. The Witches of the Hills were becoming just as feared as the Witches of the Wilds, which helped reduce the number of chasind and avvar that were willing to raid their lands.

As expected, their families took the news of their betrothal well and respected Lorianna's need to tell Cailan face to face rather than send a missive. He had formally asked the Arl for her hand and was granted leave to wed her.

Knowing the young couple would not wait until marriage to lay together Gallagher held a private ceremony in the keep's chapel to wed them. They would post the formal banns and have a large wedding after his daughter had spoken to the Prince. It was good that the whole Cousland family had chosen to come for this year's gathering. It would have been a shame if his friend had missed his youngest son's wedding. He looked from Kyrian to Starlynn and then back to his son. His gaze shifted and he caught Bryce's eye. He gave the man a knowing wink. It looked as if their families would soon have a second tie to bind them together.

Kyrian took Starlynn's hand and stepped forward. "Before my brother runs off with his new wife, I'd like to granted to right of a formal betrothal to Starlynn Jade Cousland." He blinked when the room grew silent and feared that he may have overstepped his bounds. He sighed in relief when a chorus of laughter ensued.

Bryce had, indeed, been caught off guard by the declaration. Usually such things were handled by the parents. But he respected that his future son was willing to speak for himself. He looked over at Gallagher. After receiving his nod he returned his attention to the young man before him. But there was something that needed to be said before he could agree to the betrothal. "There is something you must be made aware of before I can answer your request."

Starlynn frowned. "He already knows, father."

"Do the Arl and Arlessa?" Bryce asked pointedly.

"No," Kyrian replied. "I only just found out before the wedding. I've had no chance to talk to them about it."

Bryce raked a hand through his hair. "Then I shall be the one to break the silence. It is something I should have made known before Kael and Lorianna were wed, but it is not something I think of very often and it has never made any difference to me."

Staria tilted her head as his meaning became clear. "Are you referring to Starlynn being a mage?" she asked curiously. It had never been an issue for her.

Bryce blinked and looked at his wife. When Eleanor shook her head he turned back to Staria. "How did you know?"

Staria rubbed her forehead. "Bryce, you know I'm different. My family is different. We've never hid that from you. I sense things. I've known for several years. Just as I was aware that the dalish elf, Rhonwynn, was a mage. I presumed she was there to instruct Starlynn. I have no more care if she is a mage than you have with Kyrian and Kael being jedi."

Bryce swallowed hard. "Being a jedi is nothing like being a mage. A mage has a connection to the fade – jedi do not. There is always a risk of…"

"Your daughter is strong, Bryce. I have faith in that. With power, be it physical or mental, there is always risk of corruption. Nobles, jedi, mages – any of them could fall to that corruption and become twisted beings. Even mundane people have a dark side they can fall to, causing as much evil as anyone with power. No one is exempt. It is the heart and soul that are the moral compasses that guide us. Stay true to that and there is nothing to fear."

Bryce grinned at her. "You are very good at what you do." He turned to Kyrian. "I shall grant you the right of betrothal. Gallagher and I will attend to the formalities, son."

There was a round of hugs and back slaps. He was only thirteen and she twelve, but he loved her still and could not picture himself with anyone else, nor did he want to. Her light-gold burnished brown hair and emerald eyes had captivated him the first time he saw her. When the light touched her hair it shimmered as if it were a living thing. No one was more beautiful than Star in his eyes.

"You rascal!" Laura teased as she punched her brother's upper arm. "You never told me you planned to do that. I'm your twin, you dolt! You don't keep something like that from me."

He rubbed his arm and grinned. "Sorry, Laura. I didn't intend to keep it from you. I didn't exactly _plan_ it. We always knew we'd be together, but we only just talked about it ourselves prior to the wedding. Guess that just leaves you to find a man."

"Bah," she scoffed. "I'm Laura Rose Wulff and I don't need a man to tie me down. There isn't a man alive that could tame me."

Gallagher laughter roared through the room. "That's my baby girl!"

"Doubt a dead one would be much fun," Kyrian teased.

Izot patted her pulled back brown hair and grinned. "You will change your mind in due time, little sister."

"Here, here, Izot. Do not put notions in your sister's head," Gallagher gently scolded. It was no secret that his elder daughter enjoyed a good tumble and many a soldier had seen to her needs. Thankfully, naught had come of it yet, nor would it. A healer in Elmridge had given his wife herbs to prevent pregnancy and she, in turn, shared them with their eldest daughter. The birth of the large twins had been hard on her and he had been unwilling to risk losing another wife to childbirth, especially not one he loved as deeply as he loved her. In the fifteen years he'd known her, she'd barely aged, while the years were showing on him. But he did not begrudge her the blood in her veins. He knew she would outlive him and he would not have to watch her die. That was a small comfort.

-BREAK FOUR-

When the three months were over it had not been easy to watch her husband leave to return to Highever without her. But she had an obligation to fill and she could not shirk it. She loved Cailan too much to just send a missive with the news. It would certainly have been easier for both of them if she had done that. She was under no illusion the pain they would both endure when she told him about Kael. As much as she enjoyed spending time with him, she was not looking forward to hurting him.

Instead of focusing on the pain she focused on training with her siblings until her mother gave her the title of jedi knight. It did not have the same meaning for her that it did for her mother, but then she never knew that life. Still, it felt like an accomplishment and she didn't take that lightly. Since they did not have the materials needed for her to make a lightsaber of her own, her mother took one of hers apart and had her put it back together and gifted it to her. She had been stunned that her mother had been willing to give up one of her lightsabers. But she knew, for the first time in years, her mother had hopes of recreating the weapon for her younger children. She finally broke down and started talking to a few of the dwarves that lived in the Western Hills who believed they might be able to make a power source out of lirium. Of course, she never told the dwarves what she needed the power source for and they didn't ask.

Her mother had told her she had everything else she needed. Metal, wood, glass and gems were plentiful – it was the power source that she'd been unable to come up with since there were no batteries or solar panels here. She couldn't even imagine the wonders her mother had talked about before falling through the sky. At times she found herself envying everything her mother had seen, but her life was here and she couldn't imagine giving up everything she had for skyships and speeders. It was hard to miss what you never had.

Since her training was over she spent time with their people, mitigating their needs and helping where she could, relieving some of the burden from her mother's shoulders now that she could. When winter set in her family went on high alert. The avvar were far more likely to raid during the winter storms. They were a large, brawny folk who thrived in the cold.

Wilhelm had returned to winter at the keep, but Berchan was still squiring under one of the king's lords and did not have leave to return. She had not gotten to see much of her older brother growing up, he came to visit infrequently. Which wasn't a bad thing to her way of thinking. Whenever he returned he spent most of his time carousing with the soldiers, drinking ale and bedding the castle's staff. She was more than sure some of the staff's children were his. Though, that was never brought up. Interesting enough, there were no new children the last few years. She was pretty sure her mother had something to do with that. She was likely offering the same herbs to the staff that she had to take to keep from birthing more babies. Her mother had given her a pouch of the herbs as well, but there was no longer any need for her to take them with her husband gone.

A few weeks later, she, Legion and her younger siblings had gone to collect some winter berries. They were very sweet and could be dried and ground into a power that could be used all year long. It was on their way back from the brambles that her senses went on high alert, she wheeled Shadow to the left and gave him his head. She could hear Kyrian and Laura fast on her heels and Legion began barking the closer they got to the presence she felt. She slowed her horse and came to a stop when she saw a large group of avvar. With her face grim she pulled the lightsaber from her belt and flipped it on. She was making a stand and her intent was clear. She called Legion back to her side. They would fight as a group.

One of the large men stepped forward and held his arms up. "So the rumors are true," he said in a voice deeper than her father's. And that was an accomplishment.

Shadow pranced and tossed his head. She laid a hand on the side of his neck and sent a calming wave to him. "That we are well protected? Then, yes, the rumors are true. I do not wish to kill you, but nor will I allow you to raid our lands."

He grinned. "I do not wish to die, little one. We did not come here to raid. We wished only to see if the rumors were true and I can see that they are," Gavorn replied.

She was not certain if the large man was mocking her or not, by calling her little one, but it mattered little either way. "Do you care to enlighten me on what you've heard or do you prefer vague riddles?"

His lips quirked. She was a feisty one. She would make a good wife. "Vague riddles have their uses, but not here. We wished only to ascertain the truth of the Witches of the Hills and so we have. I can feel your power from here and it is unlike anything I have ever felt before. My clan will cease its raids." He was silent for a moment. "I am called Gavorn Ar Tazor O Redhold."

That was a mouthful. "I am Lorianna Sky Wulff of Craigorn Keep. If you are ceasing your raids then it is a unique pleasure to meet you. I have never been able to meet one of your people before."

"Alive," he corrected quietly. He held up his hand. "I do not say that out of bitterness, but out of respect for your capabilities. I am the clan augur and I wish to speak to your clan chieftain."

Her brows drew together. "My clan chieftain? Do you mean the Arl of Western Hills? If it is he you wish to speak to, then you will have your chance to do so in a few minutes. He approaches at a fast pace and he is not alone." She could feel him coming, no doubt her mother made him aware of their arrival.

"Do you scry the future?" he asked intrigued.

She shook her head. "No, my senses are more developed than most peoples. I sensed your arrival as I sense the arrival of my parents." Just as she could also not sense any deceit in him. She switched off her lightsaber and held her hand out to her siblings so they would lower their weapons. "Trust in what you feel. He harbors no deceit."

"That would be the thane's job, not mine." He tilted his head as he studied her. "You sense a great deal, little one."

"I am only little because you are very large," she pointed out. "And, yes, I do sense a great deal, large one." Though, she was uncertain what he meant a thane or what a thane's job was.

He did not wish her to get the wrong idea. "I mean you no disrespect." He scowled at the men snickering behind him.  
She knew her parents would arrive in moments and did not wish them to get the wrong idea and attack. She dismounted and approached Gavorn. "My parents will arrive momentarily. Do not touch me lest they think you are restraining me, but I have no wish for them to believe you to be a threat. By being near you I am showing them that I trust you and they will lower their weapons." She shrugged. "Or they will lower them out of fear that you will harm me…either way works. I wish to avoid needless bloodshed." She motioned her brother and sister forward.

"As wise as you are beautiful," he said softly.

Kyrian and Laura moved their mounts in front of their sister and the avvar men to form a protective barrier between their parents and the men.

As expected, their father and mother rode at the front of their soldiers, Wilhelm and Izot at their heels until their parents came to a stop. Wilhelm moved his mount to the right of his father, Izot moved hers to the left of their mother and the soldiers fanned out.

"What is going on here?" Gallagher bellowed.

Lorianna straightened her shoulders. "They came in peace and they wish to parley with you, father. I sense no deceit in them. I sense sincerity in Gavorn, I sense humor in most of them and discomfort in the man to the back right. I believe he needs a laxative."

The man in the back flushed as his friends burst out in laughter. Gavorn tried to hold the laughter back, but failed after a brief moment. "She sees the truth of it."

"You came here for the sole purpose of talking to me?" Gallagher asked suspiciously. He trusted his daughter's senses, but no avvar had ever wanted to talk with him.

Gavorn shook his head. "No. We originally came here to find the truth of the Witches of the Hills. That truth has been found. Our clan will raid yours no longer."

Gallagher grunted. He had not expected to hear that. "So you wanted to tell me you will not raid us?"

Again, Gavorn shook his head. "No. Your children could have told you that. I wanted to talk with you to propose an alliance of marriage and get your permission to kidnap Lor-i-ann-a Sky.."

"Sky is fine," she said when he stumbled over her name. She turned to look up at him. "But what do you mean kidnap me?"

"I am augur – shaman of the clan. I have a high rank, comparable to your own. The match would not be a bad one," he informed her.

She blinked as the meaning of his words sank in. "Match – you mean you want to kidnap a wife and you want that wife to be me?" She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Gavorn. I am already married. You will have to seek another wife."

"Would you be willing to set him aside or would you prefer for me to kill him?" he asked curiously.

"What? No! I love him and were I not married to him I'd be marrying the Prince of Ferelden. I am simply not available," she stated firmly.

He nodded. "Then your worth is known. Would you prefer marriage to our chieftain? He is the clan leader."

"No," she said with a laugh.

"Then you will not let me kidnap you?" he asked a final time.

She couldn't help it, she giggled. "No, Gavorn."

He nodded. "Then I accept your wishes and will not kidnap you." His gaze rose to the mounted chieftain. "Do you have another daughter or son you would be willing to use for an alliance with our clan?"

Wilhelm froze. It was within his father's rights to arrange a marriage for him, but he wanted no barbarian wife.

"I might be willing," Izot blurted out and pointed to the blonde giant to the left of Gavorn. "But I would wish to get to know him first."

"Izot…" Gallagher warned.

Lorianna knew the look in her sister's eye. "Tell him to meet her by the large oak tree in the valley below the castle when the moon is high. There's an old, abandoned settlement there," she murmured quietly. She had no intension of letting her older sister go alone, but she knew her sister would go to crazy lengths if she wanted something bad enough. The least she could do was protect her. If she was willing, a match would not be a bad idea. Though, she honestly couldn't picture her sister going native and painting her body.

He gave a slight nod to the Sky witch. The man in question was Azur Ar Brosna O Redhold, the chieftain's brother. It was an acceptable match. And while he still wanted nothing more than to steal the sky witch under the cover of the night, he would keep his word. Moreover, she was just as likely to end his life if he tried.

"I appreciate that you were willing to talk to us, Gavorn. We will have to consider your alliance further before deciding if it is something we can do. We will send you word when we have made our decision," Staria replied in her husband's stead. There was no need for bloodshed this day. Something her daughter had obviously picked up on. It was plain as blue bantha milk that she'd been protecting the avvar from them.

If the Witch of the Hills spoke for the thane, then she must be the thane's wife. He was a lucky man to have the strength of her behind him….a strength that was passed to three of their children. Gavorn nodded. "Have your messenger carry a blue flag and he will be able to pass through unharmed. We will be there until the winter's thaw and the buds bloom." He turned with his men to leave. He did not like the deception, but if the two came to care for each other and wanted a betrothal the thane of the hills would be more likely to accept the alliance.

When the avvar departed Lorianna mounted Shadow and followed the small army back to the keep. She corned her sister in her bedroom as soon as she could and explained the meeting she'd lined up with her chosen avvar.

Izot threw her arms around her baby sister. "You are the best!"

She hugged her back. "Of course I am," she teased. "But just so you know – you will not be going alone. Legion and I will be going with. I don't expect any trouble, but I'd rather be safe than sorry."

Izot laughed and clapped her hands. "I'm not complaining. I'm certainly not afraid to go alone, but I don't mind the company. But…if we go inside one of the huts…don't follow.

Later that night, when the moon had risen high they exited the keep through a back passage that only her family knew about. They put a hand over their trained mounts so the horses knew to keep quiet while they saddled them and slipped out into the star studded dark.

The avvar stepped out of the shadows when they approached close enough to be seen. His clan was not far off, but he'd come alone. The woman had peaked his interest when she'd pointed to him. He helped her down from her mount and took a step back. He had been willing to do his duty by his clan for an alliance, but now that he'd seen her up close the idea had more appeal to him. She had long, thick brown hair and had one dark blue eye and one light brown eye. That added to her appeal and would increase her worth to the clan. People with unmatched eyes were considered favored by the gods.

Lorianna moved the horses away, cleared away a large patch of snow so that they could forage on the long grass beneath. She started a fire and settled on one of the hard benches around the fire pit to give them as much privacy as she could.

A couple of hours later they went into a cabin and she sighed and poked the fire with a stick. She wished Kael was here. She smiled and looked to the right when she felt a familiar presence.

"I did not know you would be here," Gavorn murmured when he saw her looking his way. That was true enough, but he'd hoped she would come. He did not suspect that he could change her mind, nor would he try. "I wanted to make sure they were safe. They are mating?" he asked when he did not catch sight of the couple.

She poked the fire once more. Sparks plumed up. She enjoyed watching the sparks dance before they winked out. "Yes, they are in the cabin to the left," she said motioning to the afore mentioned cabin.

He nodded. Then things were going well. He found a dry spot near the fire and rolled out a fur. "Will you lay with me?"

She blinked and shook her head with a chuckle. "My husband would not approve," she said with a grin.

Heat burned in his cheeks. No one had ever managed to embarrass him before. He cleared his throat. While the notion was definitely one he'd accept, it was not what he meant. "I did not mean in that way. There is something I want to show you…above the covers…" again heat poured into his cheeks. "We will lay with our backs on the fur, there need be no touching. I just wished to share something with you that brings me solace when I need it." He sat down on the fur. "Come," he said as he held his hand out to her.

When she joined him on the fur he motioned her to join him as he laid back. "Many seasons ago I saw the sky tear open. It turned purple as if it were bruised and then tore as if its skin were ripped by a sharp blade. Colors bled from the gash along with something I have no words for. By the time we made it over the mountain all we found was a charred area on the ground. The sky remained bruised for days before she healed. But ever since that night I find myself looking up at her, wondering what she will do next. By studying the sky during the day I can see pictures in the fluff of her cotton. She is even more beautiful at night. If you look closely you can see pictures the gods have drawn in the sky. See?" he said pointing up and to the right. "That one looks like a spoon. On nights when I see the spoon I know we will have a successful hunt the following day."

She smiled. That was a romantic thought. It did not seem practical to her, but belief could go a long way to making something happen. "My mother has told me about the day the sky tore open." She found herself trusting the giant of a man. There was something comforting about him. Perhaps, that something is why he became the shaman. "What you saw fall through the tear was my mother's sky ship. She called it a shuttle. My mother came from the stars. Someplace far, far away. We are not witches, you know, regardless what anyone says. We are human, but more than human. We are jedi. Our kind have always fought injustice and protected the weak. We speak no spells; we have no connection to the fade. We are not mages and not witches. We are something all together different."

This was why he'd hoped to find her hear. He wanted to know more about the power he felt coming from her. "So your kind does not become abominations?"

She shook her head. "Look at the spoon again. My mother calls it the big dipper, because it is shaped like a dipper. But if you look at the bigger picture it looks much like an animal. It even has legs. Mother calls it the great bear."

Gavorn was stunned. Now that she had pointed it out his eyes were no longer wide shut. He saw the great bear. "I cannot believe I did not see it before. I came here to teach you and you have become the teacher. Our hold-beast is a great bear. She is the revered totem of our clan. If she is healthy then we are healthy. The spoon that is part of the bear speaks the truth." He sat up and studied her as she rose and crossed her legs. "I would like to see more of you."

"I'm not taking my clothes off for you," she teased.

Heat crawled into his cheeks. She'd done it again. "That's-" he cleared his throat when his voice cracked over the word. He found the suggestion too appealing for comfort. "That's not what I meant. I would like to speak with you more."

She bit her lip. She did not want him to fall in love with her; she did not need to add another heart to break. But maybe he wouldn't, maybe he'd only asked to marry her because of the power he'd felt in her. Or maybe he'd done so out of duty. "I like talking with you, Gavorn. I like hearing about your culture and your beliefs. But if we continue our friendship, I think it best for you not to delve too deeply into my people and my people's beliefs. I would feel a deep regret if anything I said led to ripples in your belief. The life of my people is very different and different can bring change, welcomed or no. That is why no one but my family knows about my people."

"Yet you have told me about your people." She had trusted him enough to speak the truth to him. There was something he had to know. "If you husband returns to the lady or forsakes you and your prince cannot marry you would you consider allowing me to kidnap you?"

"Returns to the lady?"

"The Lady of the Sky takes the spirits of those who have fallen," he explained.

"Oh." She did not want to think of anything happening to Kael or Cailan. "Gavorn, you would not want me. I do not have the same beliefs you have – I never will. There is no one on this planet save my mother and two of my siblings that have my beliefs. Having me in your clan would only cause dissention and that is not what I want for your clan. It would be painful to know that I have hurt anyone by being different – or caused you pain."

She was a warrior with a gentle heart. The two did not often blend together. He was also aware that she had not told him no. "What is a planet?"

She smiled, looked over at the dancing flames of the fire and rubbed her chin. "That is something no one here understands yet. That knowledge may be a few hundred years away and I doubt you would believe me if I told you."

He mulled over her words for a moment. She had stood between him and his clan and her family to protect him. She had opened his eyes and given him another way of seeing something that meant a lot to his core beliefs and she'd spoke to him about something no one but her family knew. And he wanted to learn more. More about her…more about her people. It was his duty as shamen to learn anything he could. It was truth she spoke, the more he knew the more his beliefs could change. But nothing stayed the same forever. If you did not change and adapt, you did not survive. "I would believe," he said quietly.

She released a slow breath. "You do not know what you ask, but I will tell you. If you think me insane, perhaps you will not ask more questions you do not want to know the answer for," she warned. "A planet is essentially a round rock in space with a living core that fuels it. Like a rock in a stream that slowly loses its sharp edges by the force of the water, so too does a planet become round by the forces around it. There are day and night cycles because the planet is slowly turning, facing the sun in the morning and away from the sun in the evening. And no, despite the planet being round we are in no danger of floating off into space; it is the force of gravity that keeps our feet planted. It is the same gravity that causes something you drop to fall to the ground rather than float away. And I think I've blown your mind enough for today." It was the simplest explanation that she could come up with.

He knew of the physical realm, the spiritual realm and the realm of the gods, but he never really gave it much thought past that. But what she said about day and night made logical sense. "What about the sun? Is it a planet too?"

She shook her head. "No. The sun is a star." She pointed up into the night's sky. "Those blinking lights that make up the dipper and the great bear? Those are stars like our sun, but they are very, very far away, so we do not see them like we do the sun. The sun is the closest star to our galaxy."

That was another unfamiliar word. "What is galaxy?"

She bit her lip. "That may be more than you wish to know."

He shook his head. "No. I would know of your galaxy."

"A galaxy is a group of planets that orbit or circle around the sun. It is the moving around the sun that causes the change in seasons. It is why we have planting season, harvest season and winter. I can see by your frown that this was an even harder pill to swallow."

"Pill?" he asked, his voice cracking over the word. She had been correct she had blown his mind, but in doing so she'd given him much to ponder.

"Sorry, they had medicine pills to swallow where my mother came from." She waved her hand. "It was just a saying. Harder pill to swallow meant something was unbelievable. Bitter pill to swallow meant receiving bad news."

He nodded only half listening. "So, if our sun has planets around it then each of those suns – stars up there could have planets and other beings living on them?"

She nodded, impressed with ability to extrapolate details. He was actually a very intelligent man. "And now you know. We are not alone out here in space. As I told you before, my mother came from one of those other galaxies and there are far more species than just humans, elves, dwarves and qunari out there." She glanced over at the cabin just before the door opened. Legion, who had planted himself at the door now moved over to her side and settled on the fur. She stroked his back. "Are you ready to go now, Izot?"

Izot smiled and nodded. "We've decided to continue getting to know each other."

Azur's eyes narrowed on Gavorn. "I was not expecting to see you, augur."

Gavorn rose and gave a helping hand to Lorianna. "I came to ensure you were safe. I had not intended to stay until I saw Sky." He looked down at the witch – no, jedi. "May I speak with you again?"

Lorianna nodded. "If you think that is wise, then I would not be opposed. You and your men should be safe enough to settle here for awhile. No one comes to this place anymore because they believe this place to be haunted by the dead and the fire cannot be seen by the keep or the patrols. If someone does approach you, you may tell them I have given you leave to remain here for the time being."

She swung up into the saddle and patted Shadow's neck. "Come on, Izod. The morning comes too soon and it would be suspicious if I did not rise at the cock's crow."

"Fine…fine…" she mumbled and let Azur toss her into the saddle. She leaned down to graze her lips against his. "Until later, mountain man." She wheeled her mount and took off towards the keep.

"Good night, gentlemen." She turned her horse around. "Get her, Shadow!" And with little more than the press of her knees he was off.

-BREAK FIVE-

After planting season she started the long journey to the Royal Palace in Denerim. Since her father had fallen ill with a fever her mother had elected to remain behind to see to his care. This time, it was her little sister that accompanied her. She'd once asked her mother why her and her sister's names were so similar. Her mother had told her that Lorianna was her mother's name and Laura had been her dearest friend and giving her daughters their names was her way of keeping their memories alive. Now it all made sense, her mother had lost everything when she had been pulled through the tear and she didn't blame her at all in wanting to keep some part of her past alive. Her mother was a strong woman. She adapted, endured – she never complained. Well, occasionally she griped about the lack of toilet paper, which is something she would have loved to have had as well. She moved her black gelding closer to her sister's palomino gelding, Dragon. The palomino laid his ears back and snorted. "Get over yourself," she said as she sent a small burst of calm in his direction. "Have you given any consideration on who you will wed?" she asked her sister.

"Ha! Nothing has changed, Lorianna. Just because I'm supposed to be finding a husband, doesn't mean I will. I will not let any man rule me. I'd die a spinster before I let that happen."

Lorianna quirked a brow. "Do you think Kael would try to rule me?" Let him try.

Laura tilted her head. "If your safety came into play, perhaps – but he's head over arse in love with you. He's far more likely to bend over backwards to please you. Besides, he and Cailan practically grew up with you – they know better. I have no one like that…I'm not even looking."

Lorianna pursed her lips to keep them from smiling. "You know, they say it is when you are not looking that you find what you are seeking."

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm. Not. Seeking. A. Man," she said, emphasizing each word.

"Oh?" Lorianna's brow arched. "Do you prefer the ladies then?" she teased.

"For fuck's sake – shut up!" Laura growled, but couldn't stop herself from shuddering. The thought of being with another woman did not appeal to her. But nor had she ever met a man that she had the slightest interest in, no matter how many of her father's soldiers came forth requesting her hand.

Lorianna chuckled. "Someone's been spending too much time with Wilhelm."

Laura turned her attention from the passing scenery to look at her sister. "Yeah? Well at least I am not sneaking off in the middle of the night to meet with an avvar."

"Clever girl," she murmured. "It's not like that – or it's not like that for me. Gavorn and I are sharing stories about our peoples. He has some fascinating beliefs. None that I would ever come to believe in, but it makes them no less fascinating for me.

"You have three men that love you and I cannot even find one," she said with a shake of her head.

"I thought you weren't looking," she shot back to tease her little sister.

"I'm not and that's beside the point. It's not as though I'm hideous," she pointed out.

"No, you're beautiful and you know it. There are a whole line of soldiers willing to fight each other for your hand," she reminded her.

"It's not the same. They have no love for me – they only seek to raise their own station. That is not something I'm willing to accept. You have a romantic love – three romantic loves. Men who would fall to their knees for a smile from you." She shook her head. "I'm not against love…I'm just as romantic at heart as you are. If I found someone who could make my body sing, sweep me off my feat, yet still treat me as an equal…" she released a slow breath. "I'm done talking about impossible feats." A sense of unease came over her and she pulled Dragon to a stop. She turned to look at her sister and found her sister had also stopped, her gaze locked onto the west. "Shall we check it out?"

Lorianna nodded, turned Shadow to the right and gave him his head. She could hear Dragon and their entourage of soldiers close on her heels. She sensed determination, anger and hint of desperation. She also sensed greed and malice. She could see a fight in the distance and she slowed Shadow to get a feel for the battle. Two men, armed with a bow and crossbow were fighting off what appeared to be a large group of bandits. Now she understood the two very different sets of emotions. As they approached the battle her sister propelled herself from the saddle, over the top of Dragon's head, twisted in the air and landed between the archers and the bandits, daggers drawn. And so it begins. She propelled herself from the saddle and landed next to her sister, her lightsaber ignited with a hum.

At first they'd had to dodge arrows and bolts as the two men tried to help them, but they seemed to realize they were doing more harm than good and apparently lowered their weapons, because they no longer had to deal with the incoming arrows.

Sebastian blinked and looked down at the dwarf who only shrugged. Out of nowhere two women had dropped into the fray, their movements little more than blur. They saw weapons fly out; take a man down, only to return to the hand of its owner, who would catch it in mid-swing to take out another man.

"Wish I had a chair about now," Varric quipped, "to enjoy the view."

"I've never seen anything like that. The way they move. Did you see the way their daggers returned to them?" Sebastian asked his companion, stunned by what he was seeing.

"That was hard to miss," Varric replied.

"They must be mages - or apostates." He shook his head. That didn't seem right, for one they did not carry a staff, though one held a glowing sword.

Varric shook his head. "I don't think so. The only things I've heard coming out of their mouths is coordination strategy and they're glad we're no longer shooting at them."

"I did wonder about the lack of spells." His mouth fell open when one of the women held her hand out and two men were propelled into a boulder and crumbled onto the ground. He shook his head. What he was seeing was the work of a mage, but they did not act like mages.

The last man fell to his knees in surrender and the women lowered their weapons and took a step back. "I surrender. Have mercy. We shouldn't have attacked you."

Sebastian looked down at Marlin, a man that had been traveling with them that had bled out into the dirt, and raised his bow. "How many have you killed in the name of greed? May the maker have mercy on your soul, because you will find none here." He loosed an arrow that buried itself, shaft deep, in the man's neck. The man gave a strangled cry, grabbed at the protruding feathers and fell to the ground, eyes glazed.

Lorianna turned and frowned at the man. "The man had surrendered. Why kill him?"

Sebastian turned and raised his bow when he heard the approach of several horses.

"They are with us," Laura told him. "Our horses were faster than theirs or they'd have helped."

He lowered his bow and turned to face the women. "The man showed no mercy to Marlin when he surrendered," he pointed to the unarmed man that had been run through. "He was not going to change his ways – he only sought to save his own skin. A man with no mercy deserves no less." He looked from the light blonde woman, who appeared to be the leader to the golden haired vision with eyes as green as a brilliant emerald. She was dressed in pants, supple, soft, thigh high leather boots and a purple tunic, split at the hip, with gold trim and embroidered with golden thread. They appeared to be nobility according to the crest on the horse's blankets, but they were not dressed like the nobles he was used to seeing. Then again, they did not fight like any noble he'd ever seen before.

"Dakon, please have one of the men attend to Marlin – the unarmed man. He is deserving of a proper sending. Have the rest of the men take anything of value from the dead to purchase mounts for the two gentlemen."

"Right away, my lady," Dakon said as he dismounted and waved the other men into action.

"Gentleman – I could get used to that," Varric said with a grin. "Varric Tethras, born and raised in the good city of Kirkwall, at your service," he said with a slight bow.

Sebastian cleared his throat and forced his gaze to leave the golden vision. The light blonde was also stunning, though she had sky blue eyes, rather than the striking emerald. The resemblance between the two women was undeniable. "I am Sebastian Vael – exiled Prince of Starkhaven. We appreciate your timely assistance." Though he still had far more questions than answers about what he'd witnessed.

Exiled Prince, now that was interesting. "It would seem you both are a long way from home. I am Lorianna Sky Wulff. It is a pleasure to meet you and our duty to help where we are needed." She glanced over at her sister when she remained silent and noticed her gaze locked onto the prince. That too was interesting. "The silent one is my sister, Laura Rose Wulff." She ignored the pinkening of her sister's cheeks. "If you do not mind me asking, where are you heading?"

"Denerim," Varric said as he twirled a bolt between his fingers before slipping it back into his quiver.

She nodded. "Then you shall ride with us. We are heading to Denerim too."

Varric blinked. Him on a horse? "I would rather walk," he said, declining the offer.

"Nonsense, just hang onto my waist and don't look down. You'll be fine. I promise," she said gently.

Varric looked up at Sebastian hoping the human would back him up, but it was very apparent by the look on his face that he intended to do whatever it took to spend more time with the silent sister. He was at the mercy of choirboy's hormones. He released a slow breath and nodded. This was not going to end well. The ground was a long way down.

Laura blinked and shook her head to clear it. What the hell just happened to her? "Please come with me, Seb. You are welcome to share my mount. Just don't try to mount him without me with you. He's…a one woman horse," she warned.

Sebastian grinned when he saw that her mount was as golden as she was. Fitting. She watched her sister mount Shadow and hold her hand down to the dwarf. It was obvious she'd used a bit of power to help pull him up behind her. The look on his face was priceless. Even the dwarves in the Western Hills preferred to walk, though some rode small, sturdy ponies.

Dragon's ears pinned back when the prince got too close. She stroked his long, arched neck. "Shhh…my sweet, he's with me." She sent a wave of calm through her touch.

It was obvious she had a way with animals. The horse seemed to calm dramatically under her touch. When she turned to mount he handed her up into the saddle. When she removed her feet from the stirrups he mounted behind her. He could feel the energy of the mount beneath him. It felt good to sit a horse again. And now that he was not in battle he was thankful he was not wearing armor. It would have been a shame if he'd missed out on the feel of her pressed against him. "You have a way with him."

His accent sent shivers down her spine. "Your accent is as beautiful as you are." She blushed. "I didn't mean to say that out loud. Forgive my wayward tongue."

It pleased him that she liked how he looked and the way he talked. "I'd rather encourage it," he admitted honestly.

She laughed. "You are shameless, Seb."

Perhaps, at times. "Does that bother you?" he asked curiously.

"So long as you mean what you say, then no," she told him point blank.

"I will always speak the truth to you," he murmured in her ear. While that might not have always been the case in the past, the words felt true coming from his lips.

She shivered when his breath tickled her ear. "That is good, considering I have an uncanny ability for sensing bullshit," she warned.

He chuckled. "Then my bullshit will remain in the pasture."

She laughed. "I like you. I think we'll get along just fine – which is good since we've got a long journey ahead of us. And as for your statement, I do have a way with him. I rescued Dragon from an abusive master. I healed him and earned his love."

That was commendable. "Do you make a habit of rescuing males and earning their love?"

She brought her hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh. "I think you would be the best one to answer that question."

He grinned. She was a little spitfire and she was as good at banter as she was at keeping him on his toes. When the horse jumped a small hole in the ground, he tightened his arm around her to keep her safely against him.

She smiled softly. She'd practically been raised on horseback, but he didn't know that and maybe it wouldn't have mattered. It could be he was just a gentleman.

"Are you married?" he asked quietly when she relaxed back against him. He hadn't bedded a woman since his parents hauled him off to the chantry. Not that he had lacked opportunity; he just lacked the desire to continue behaving as he had. That was when he'd realized he had fallen so low just to get his parents' attention. Bad attention had been better than no attention – at least until they'd carted him off to the chantry. Despite being a changed man, the woman in his arms was far too tempting to resist. He wasn't sure why he asked if she was married; at this point he'd have bedded her regardless.

She leaned into the arm that supported her and tilted her head to the side to look up at him. "Are you interested?" she challenged with an arched brow.

He looked down into her sparkling, emerald eyes and lowered his gaze to her slightly parted lips. He knew he might end up getting smacked, but there was only so much temptation a man like him could take. He lowered his head to capture her lips, his tongue slipped between them to tease and stroke hers into a response. And her response nearly made him lose all control.

She'd never been kissed before, never thought to be and she was caught off guard by the heat that fired through her veins with the touch of his tongue. Her hand slipped through his hair as a hunger she didn't know she had was unleashed.

He slipped the reins into the hand of the arm that held her to free up his other hand. He cupped the side of her face, his thumb caressing her cheek as he regained control of the kiss. His fingertips grazed sown the length of her neck and slid along the sweetheart neckline of her tunic. As his hand slid down over her tunic, she arched against him and her breast overfilled the palm of his hand. With a groan he massaged it and rubbed the tight peak hidden beneath the tunic. Her soft moans were fanning flames that threatened to spread out of control.

It was the barking of a dog that pulled him back to his senses. He lowered his hand to her waist and pulled back to brush his lips over hers.

"Sweet hell, I want you…" her eyes flew open and her cheeks grew warm. Her damnable mouth. "I didn't mean to say that out loud," she said as she turned her head to face forward once more.

He grinned. Her accidental slips were charming him. He couldn't help but wonder who was seducing whom. He lowered his mouth to her ear. "I want to taste every inch of you. I want to bury myself in your heat and make love to you until you cry out my name when you come for me." He grazed his teeth against her ear. When she moved uncomfortably in the saddle he commiserated, he was just as sexually frustrated as she was.

He knew just what to say to make her need him more and the damnable ache he'd given her was nearly unbearable. "Promises…promises," she said in a voice she barely recognized.

He drew her back against his arousal and rocked her against it. "There is only truth in my words," he murmured. The trip to Denerim was going to be far more enjoyable than he'd anticipated. He'd always had a way with the ladies and for awhile it had become something he was proud of. But there was something different about the woman in his arms, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. She wasn't like the other ladies, she wasn't coy and she didn't play games. Her responses and words were stated honestly, even if she didn't intend to state them. That seduced him far more than he'd expected. "Why are you going to Denerim?" It wasn't his business but he was curious.

"My sister needs a private word with Cailan," she said simply.

She referred to the Prince by his first name. Interesting. "Are they close?"

She frowned. This wasn't going to be the usual type of visit and it bothered her that Cailan would be hurt by it. "More than close. Ever since she was two, Meric has sought a betrothal between Cailan and Lorianna, but mother insisted she make her own choice. Bryce and Eleanor Cousland also sought a betrothal to their son, Kael. Every year she'd spend a few months with each of them getting to know them. In the end, though she loved them both, she chose Kael; but refused to announce it until she had the chance to let Cailan know. That is why we are here. It is not a visit any of us will enjoy this time. I hurt for them both."

That was not what he'd expected to hear. "I've never given my heart to anyone. I can't imagine the pain they will soon feel."

"Nor have I. And maybe that is part of the reason why. An arrangement like that will bring only pain and pain and I are mortal enemies," she admitted. "Every man that meets her seems to want to give his heart to her. There is something about her that draws them to her."

"I have no intension of giving my heart to your sister," he teased.

"Only because you don't want to give your heart to anyone," she pointed out.

He frowned. Was that true? Just because he hadn't loved didn't mean he couldn't love, did it? He'd like to think he was capable of love. He'd loved his parents…once. He loved his grandfather –but that was not the same as giving his hear to someone. Maybe she was right, maybe he hadn't loved because he was afraid to be hurt the way his parents and older brother had hurt him. "Do you want to give your heart to someone?" he asked curiously. Wondering what her reasons were.

"Why, do you want my heart for your own?" she teased with a grin.

And now she'd managed to flummox him. He'd intended to give her a flippant answer about how he didn't need love, but he couldn't force the words past his lips. 'I…' words failed him and he shook his head in stunned disbelief. Somehow she'd managed to tilt his world and he didn't know what to do about it. No. She was nothing more than a stunningly beautiful diversion. For some reason that thought did not give him the solace he was hoping for.

She took the head shake as a no, he didn't want her heart. She tried to ignore the pang that thought caused. "I was teasing. The truth of it is I don't want to be tied to a man that doesn't love me enough to let me be me. I'm not exactly little miss housewife material. I don't want to stay at home and bake bread. I want to be out there, righting wrongs and helping people in need. I want to protect those that are mistreated. I want to help settle disputes, help people rebuild their lives, even if that mean helping them rebuild a torched barn or teaching them how to defend themselves against those that would take advantage of them. What man would ever want that kind of wife? None. I accepted that a long time ago." She'd tried to make the words sound as nonchalant as she could, but they sounded hollow to her ears.

He mulled over her words. She was right; most men did prefer their wives to stay home where it was safe. Was that what he wanted? Unless he owned a farmstead and worked the fields, he would be gone a lot and that meant he would not see his wife very often. Is that the kind of marriage he would want? Or would he want her with him so he could make love to her every night, wake up to her every morning, talk with her every day? He supposed that depended on if love was involved. In noble marriages, love was often not a consideration and both had lovers on the side. But was that what he wanted in a marriage? It was not something he'd ever stopped to consider before. Now that he was exiled he did not have to marry for convenience. He was free to do as he wanted. Marry who he wanted. Live a life he wanted. He just wasn't sure what kind of life he wanted to live. He'd been forced into the chantry then given aid to escape. He had a clean canvas now and it was up to him to decide what his life's painting would show. Her words…what she wanted out of life, was noble and honest work. It was the kind of work the chantry should do if they would do more than just spout pretty words. Words carried great power, but they often did little for need. The life she wanted was a life could see himself living and nothing was stopping him from living that life now. History showed there were a lot of women that fought for what they believed in. Even Andraste picked up a sword and fought for change. So having such a woman at his side was far more appealing than having one waiting at home. "Not all men feel that way."

Her brows rose. She had not expected him to say that. "Is that so? Then I challenge you to find me such a man and I will consider giving my heart and loyalty to him."

-BREAK SIX-

He leaned her against his arm and tilted her chin so that he could brush his lips against hers. "I'm such a man," he murmured against her lips.

She cupped his cheek and grinned. "Then that is my rotten luck, because you don't want my heart – you just want in my pants," she teased, purposely keeping her voice light so he wouldn't see how the words she spoke bothered her.

He blinked. She had a strange way of talking. He did, indeed, want to get her out of her pants, but how had she come to the conclusion that he didn't want her heart? Was it because he'd hesitated? "I never said I didn't want your heart – I just don't want to see either of us getting hurt." Why had he said that? That had never bothered him before. But in the past his women had been little more than a one night tumble and he wasn't sure if he'd be so quick to walk away from her. She made him feel far more than he ever had and he wasn't sure if she wasn't already getting under his skin.

She stroked his swarthy cheek with her fingertips, trying not to fall into his bright, piercing blue eyes. "In order for one to be hurt one must first care. Are you saying you think you could come to care for me?"

"Yes," he said in a strangled voice. He swallowed hard. "I think I already do."

She smiled softly up at him and brought his head down to kiss his forehead. "Good, because I care about you too and unrequited feelings are a bitch." She could just imagine one day telling their children how she fell in love with their daddy on the back of a horse after she saved his ass from bandits. A giggle burst from her lips.

She cared about him. Now if he could only wipe the silly grin off his face. "What?" he asked when she laughed.

She waved a hand in negation. "Don't ask. It was a fanciful, whimsical thought. You won't think it's funny and you may just run for the hills. So let's just leave that bit of nonsense for later."

He pursed his lips. Now she'd made him all the more curious. "I won't run for the hills, Laura. Tell me…"

She shook her head. "Please don't…I can't…"

He lowered his mouth to her ear. "I have ways of making you talk…"

She shot him a smirk. "Not on the back of a horse, you don't."

That was a challenge he couldn't resist. He glanced to the right. Lorianna and Varric were deep in conversation and not paying any attention. Good. He settled the reins over the pommel and moved her hair over her shoulder so he could kiss her neck. He gently nipped it and soothed it with his tongue. He kissed a trail up her neck to her ear and trailed his tongue along the shell before he took the lobe between his teeth for soft nibble. "Tell me…" he crooned as his left hand slid along her inner thigh under her tunic. He groaned when his fingertips grazed over the heart of her and slowly slid up her belly to discover she wasn't wearing any smallclothes. He cupped her breast and drew his thumb over the tight peak. Her sounds of her moans thickened his arousal. He rolled her nipple between his fingers and gently plucked it. "Tell me…" he said thickly.

She cried out softly, needing his touch. "You don't play fair…"

"All is fair in love and war…" he murmured against her neck. His hand slid down over the flat of her belly and slipped beneath the cinched waist of her pants. A ragged breath escaped when he fingers slipped through her silky curls, but the saddle impeded further exploration. He pulled her up so that she was sitting on his inner thighs and groaned when his fingers slipped between her wet folds. He was careful to avoid the swollen nub…that he was saving for tonight. His fingertip teased her, using her essence to slicken it. That was when he discovered the small membrane at the bottom of her well of pleasure. He was surprised to find that she was a virgin; she was far too passionate for him to have believe that. He'd never taken a virgin, he'd never wanted to. But he wanted her. And there was something primal in knowing that he was the only man who'd touched her.

He carefully slid his slick finger into her tight heat and trembled with the need to bury himself in her. He found the spot he was looking for and thrust his finger against it as he captured her lips, swallowing her cry of pleasure. "Tell me..." he murmured against her lips.

"If I tell you …you'll stop," she panted softly.

He had no intension of stopping whether she told him or not. Right now he cared more about her pleasure than his own and that was a new realization for him. "I won't stop."

With each thrust the pleasure grew, she didn't know what was going to happen, but she couldn't bear it if he stopped. "I…imagined telling…our children one day…ah….how I fell in love…" she panted... "with their father …on…ahhh….the back of a horse after…after…" she could not stop the moan, "I saved his ass from…from bandits. It – it was just…"

He did not feel like running for the hills. Even if it was just a thought and not real her words of love made his heart feel lighter. His grandfather was the only person who had ever loved him and he'd needed to hear those words more than he realized. He silenced her with a kiss and quickened the pace of his hand. He groaned when she clenched around his finger as she stiffened in his arms. Sweet maker, he wanted to be inside her right now. The kiss muffled her cry of release. He gradually slowed his movements, but remained inside her until her muscles stopped their rhythmic quivers.

He slipped his hand from her pants and raised it to his nose. His mouth watered from the scent of her nectar. He slid his finger into his mouth and twirled his tongue over it to capture her taste. This small teasing was all he could have right now.

Watching what he'd done and seeing the heated promise in his blue eyes had caused her core to clench. "You didn't run for the hills…" she said softly, unable to hide the wonder in her voice.

He grinned at her. "What would our children think if I ran? That would not be a very flattering ending to the story," he teased.

Her cheeks bloomed with color. "You're not going to let me live that down, are you?"

He winked at her. "Not when you blush so becomingly when I tease you about it. But I should point out that you will not be telling any stories to our children, lest they are conceived first…and that may take a great deal of trying."

Her mouth fell open and slammed shut. She'd walked right into that one. "You're quite the Clarissian." She saw the confusion in his face and realized that was one of her mom's words, not something said here. "Rake…heart-breaker…lady's man…charmer…"

The smile slipped from his lips. That was one of the reasons he'd been exiled and carted off to the chantry. "A man can change."

She quirked a brow. "Can he?"

"I don't want to hurt you, Laura," he murmured.

She bit her lip. "But that won't stop you from making love to me, will it?"

"No," he admitted. "Only you can stop that."

Could she make love to him and not have her feelings towards him grow? She wasn't ignorant. He was a prince, exiled or not, so he would never be hers. More important, she would never tolerate a traditional noble marriage. She wasn't the type of woman to share. She shook her head. She'd never wanted to get married; she never wanted to submit under any man's rule. Why did he have to come into her life and turn everything upside down? Regardless, she wanted him."I won't," she told him quietly. "One night…that's all I can give."

He kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose and then her lips. Then he had one night to make her change her mind. One night to show her that one night will never be enough. "Then I will have to make sure it is a night you will never forget."

She turned to face forward again. That was what she was afraid of. "Were you at Redcliffe?" she asked, changing the subject.

He blinked at the change of subject. "Yes, we were. Varric wanted to establish some trade contacts to broaden his network across Ferelden."

"Are you in business with him?" she asked curiously.

He chuckled. "No – I had my own network to broaden."

"Which would be…." She replied, pushing for more details.

He released a slow breath. "The nobility. I told you I was an exiled prince of Starkhaven. And since my family is familiar with the nobility in the Free Marches, I figured my best chance at obtaining noble connections would be in Ferelden."

"Why did you choose Ferelden over Orlais or Antiva?"

"The nobility of Orlais are…complex. They play games I want no part of. They will greet you with a smile and send an assassin to stab you in the back. As for Antiva? That is where the assassins hale from. There are many reasons for me to avoid that country," he explained. He wouldn't put it past his family to hire assassins to make sure he was never seen again.

She was curious as to what those reasons would be, but let it go for now. "How did you meet up with Varric?"

One corner of his mouth lifted in a half grin. "We met at a tavern in Kirkwall called the Hanged Man."

She smirked. "That doesn't sound like a very hospitable place."

"You would be right about that, it's in Lowtown. Marlin took me there. He said Varric was the dwarf to see if I wanted information. When he learned I was going to Ferelden, he decided to come along. Marlin joined us to see how Ferelden differed from the Free Marches. Marlin is – was a mage from Kirkwall. From what he told me, that was not a place any mage wanted to be. That is why he did not carry a staff." He paused for a moment. "I notice that you do not carry a staff either."

"Me? Why would I? The only thing I could do with one is beat someone over the head with it," she chuckled. "I'm actually pretty damned good at pole sparring."

"Pole sparring?" That was not something he was familiar with.

Right. It was not something anyone here - or apparently anywhere, had heard of. "It was something my mother taught us how to do - with two staff-length cylinders of wood, smoothed to a shine. We stood atop a balance beam – that is a large log that is flattened along the top, the width of your foot, covered in hide and raised about two feet off the ground; we sparred with the poles until either someone's pole was knocked from their hands or they fell. It is good training for balance and agility."

He couldn't even imagine such a thing, but maybe it explained the way the sisters moved. "The way you and your sister fight – did your mother teach you that as well?"

She grinned. "She did. That particular fighting style relies heavily on balance and agility."

His training was more a joke than anything else. His parents didn't want to waist the resources training a second spare. It was his grandfather that showed him how to use the bow, but a bow was only useful at a distance. "Would you be willing to train me? A bow is not very useful in close quarters," he admitted.

"I can teach you the basics," she said hesitantly, "but it requires patience and persistence. Give me that and I am yours – I mean I'll mentor you." She rubbed her heated cheeks, thankful that he could not see them.

He couldn't stop the smile from spreading over his lips. No woman had ever charmed him like she did. He was not in a hurry for this journey to end.

Lorianna scanned the small clearing. The light was fading fast and there was no reason to risk injury to the horses. She pulled Shadow to a stop. "We'll camp here for the night. I hear a stream not too far off, so we will have water. She dismounted and used her power to lift Varric down from the saddle. She pretended nothing had just happened as she untied the bow from her saddle. She strapped on the quiver and looked over at her sister who had just strapped on her own quiver.

"Lorianna and I always hunt up game while the men pitch camp. You can join us or the men, whatever you prefer."

He had seen the bow strapped to the saddle and was curious how good she was. "I'll hunt with you."

"So will I," Varric said with a groan. "I need to stretch my legs. I think they've disowned me."

Lorianna nodded. "Legion, protect the horses." She grinned when he whined. "Sorry, boy. With four of us going, we need you more here, so the men don't have to watch over the horses. We'll be back soon."

"I'll cover the east and north, you cover the south and west," Laura told her sister.

Lorianna nodded. "Sounds good to me, it will let me check out the stream I hear." She grinned. "Sebastian, you're with me. Varric can accompany my sister."

-BREAK SIX-

Sebastian frowned but nodded. He had little doubt that Lorianna had seen enough to make her concerned for her sister. He tilted Laura's chin up and grazed his lips against hers. When her arms slipped around his waist a small smile played on his lips as he hugged her back. She felt so good pressed against him that he didn't want to let go. When she pulled back he reluctantly released her and returned Varric's wave as the two set off. He sighed and turned to face the sister and nodded to her. He looked back over the direction Laura had gone and then followed Lorianna.

The fact that Sebastian had looked back let her know more about what he felt than any words he could have said. She scanned the area as they proceeded west.

"I imagine you have questions regarding my intentions towards your sister." There was no use prolonging what was to come.

"I did, but you've already answered them," she said with a grin.

He blinked in confusion. "I have said nothing."

She shook her head. "You didn't have to. When you looked back you had a look on your face that told me everything I needed to know."

"What kind of look was that?" He hadn't realized there had been any particular look on his face. He just hadn't like the idea of not going with her. He'd wanted to make sure she was safe. Which was ridiculous considering she hardly needed his protection.

She wasn't about to tell him what he felt, because some things were best if you discovered them yourself. "I know you are not just using her for a tumble." She grabbed an arrow and shot to the right without looking. "After what Varric told me…well, you can imagine my concern," she said as she bent over to pick up the hare. She plucked out the arrow and wiped it on the grass, before returning it to her quiver.

He just blinked when he saw her shoot her bow without even looking. Even the best archer could not do that. Archery was a visual skill. "Varric is a story teller, he likes to embellish. I cannot tell you if he embellished my past. It is not a past I am particularly proud of now, but just know that a man can change."

"I know that. Were that not the case, my arrow would have landed between your legs." She tied the hare to her belt and continued heading west.

He swallowed hard. He did not doubt it for a moment. "If you know this, why did you require my presence?"

"Because I was not certain until you looked back. To your left," she said, pointing to the large pheasant that blended into the shadows. She remained silent while he took aim and fired. "Is it so wrong for me to want to get to know the man who is going to take my sister's innocence?"

She must have extraordinary hearing, because he never would have known the bird was there. He used a leather strip to tie the bird's foot to his belt. "I have no intention of hurting your sister."

Her smile was wan. "The road to hell is often paved with good intentions. My sister is not a tavern wench; she's lived a sheltered life by choice. Ever since she was a child she's sworn to never marry, never give up her independence and never let a man rule her or try to change her. And until now, no man has interested her."

"I know," he said quietly. "She told me. She is a remarkable woman. I have no desire to dim her light."

She nodded. He spoke with sincerity and she sensed no uncertainty or deceit. "Even so, once that line is crossed – there can be only two outcomes. Happiness or pain. She will not be able to keep her heart free from…entanglements. I only ask that you take that to heart before you bed her."

"Those words come from experience," he said gently.

Yes. They did. If she had known Kael loved her – if she'd even thought she'd have a chance with him, she never would have made love to Cailan and their hearts would not have become as entangled as they were. It would end only in pain for them now. "They do – and the cost I'm paying is high. If I could keep her from paying that price, I would. I realize nothing is ever certain…all I ask is that you tread lightly."

"Of course." He studied her for a moment. "It is obvious you are nobility and the name Wulff is familiar, but I cannot place it."

"My parents are the Arl and Arlessa of the Western Hills, which is located south-west of the Arling of Redcliffe.

"Western Hills….Arl Eamon suggested that should be my next stop. We were heading there when we were attacked. When Marlin was killed we decided it was best to head to Denerim instead, since we lacked the numbers to make the journey safely." His gaze narrowed on her when she shot her bow a second time without looking. "When the servants discovered where we were going they warned us of the Witches of the Hills. I did not think much on it until…"

She frowned. She knew exactly where this was going. "There are no Witches of the Hills. There never have been." She fastened the hare to her belt.

His brow rose. "I have seen you use magic – or something very like magic."

She could not bring herself to lie to him, but nor could she tell him the truth. She didn't know him well enough to trust him with her family's lives. "Whatever you think you saw – that is not something I'm willing to talk about. I don't know you well enough to trust you with my family's lives. I said as much to Varric when he asked. All I will tell you is that there is nothing magical about us and I will ask that you not speak of it to anyone outside of our family."

"Fair enough," he said with a nod of his head. When they turned south he caught sight of a pheasant and loosed an arrow. It wasn't much further when he sighted a doe.

She placed a hand on his arm and pushed down so he would lower his bow. "We do not have the supplies to salt the meat and we will not be staying here long enough eat something that size." She paused. "You said you were an exiled Prince. Are you willing to tell me what happened?"

He shrugged. "I was a second spare. My parents had no need of me, nor did they wish to deal with me. Eventually, they had me carted off to the chantry to force me to take vows to become a brother. That was not what I wanted, so when the opportunity arose to escape – I did. I ended up in Kirkwall, met Varric and Marlin…and here I am."

It was obvious there was far more to it than that, but she could hardly expect him to open up with her when she refused to do so with him. "I'm sorry, I cannot imagine parents like that." Her parents had told her the truth about who her sire was, she had wondered about him, but she felt no connection to him. Gallagher had loved as much as he loved all his children and no one but the three of them knew the truth. There was no point, since her birth father would never be able to claim her. She could not begin to understand the kind of childhood he must have had.

He shook his head. "They are no longer a part of my life." He watched a fish arch out of the stream as they approached it. He pulled back the bowstring and let the arrow fly. It pierced the fish and imbedded in the rocks in the stream. He would have to get wet to retrieve it, but it was worth it. Fish would be a welcome change in the fare he'd been eating.

Lorianna grinned held her hand towards the arrow; the arrow, fish in tow, arched back out of the water and into her hand. "I have a better idea," she said as she handed the impaled fish to him. She took a long leather string from her pocket and handed it to him. "I will toss fish up onto the bank. Kill them so they do not die slowly and string them up."

He looked at the fish on his arrow and just blinked. But, as before, he'd heard no spells being cast. That only begged the question – what was she if she was not a mage? He pulled the arrow from the fish, wiped in on the grass and slipped it back into the quiver. He ran the leather string through the fish's mouth and out through its gills. A large fish launched itself out of the water and landed near his feet. He pulled a small, ornate knife from its sheath to kill the gasping fish before stringing it next to the first. Five more large fish landed on the bank before she rose.

"Between our haul and theirs, we will have enough for tonight and some to breakfast on. Give me a moment and we will return to camp." She pursed her lips. "You too may wish to find a bush. The trench is not a pleasant experience." She turned away to conduct her business behind the privacy of a bush. The men will have already dug a small trench behind the camp. It was safer than venturing too far from the fire at night, but it was not private. The men might not care, but she did. And the smell…best not to think about it. The trench would be filled in with dirt when they left, and before long there would be no signs that they'd ever camped there.

He had returned from his own jaunt to a bush and was picking up the string of fish when she returned. He followed her in silence for a bit, mulling over everything he'd been told. "Will the Prince ask for Laura's hand after you refuse his troth?"

That was a curious question. One she'd never thought of before. She knew Anora was being pushed on Cailan, but she also knew an alliance with her family meant more than an alliance with Anora's, despite the fact that her father was only an Arl and Loghain was a teyrn – her family was of noble blood and a powerful family. Loghain had been given the title by Meric, but was only a commoner by blood. "Perhaps, if we hadn't….no, I don't think he will. There is too much between us for him to turn to my sister. It is far more likely that he will wed Anora, Teyrn Loghain's daughter. Loghain has been pushing Meric for the alliance since we were children. He may also choose to remain single, until he is king there is no need for him to wed."

He nodded. He didn't care to examine too closely why her words eased him. His parents hadn't cared enough to try to arrange a match for him. For that, at least, he was grateful.

By the time they returned to camp the tents were up and the fire was belching sparks in the ring of stones. The smell of cooking meat permeated the air. "Any kills you make along the way can be given to Johns; he preps and cooks. We never leave home without him – he's that good." She untied her kills and set them on the skin next to the cook. She looked over at Nett who was oiling the raw skins and rolling them up to be tanned later. The soldiers were sitting around the fire, talking in a comforting drone. No one strayed too far from the fire at night, the fire kept the mosquitoes and the predators at bay.

She settled down next to Varric so that Sebastian could sit next to her sister.

"The stories I could tell about you and your sister…" Varric chuckled and held his hands up in surrender when she sent him a cold, warning glare. "I wouldn't use your names. Think about it. Two sister apostates, leaving the safety of their home, braving the might of the templars to fight the scum and tyranny that plague the unfortunate." He rubbed his chin and shrugged. "It's a work in progress. It would be interesting to see how the story ends. Do the sisters stay together? Does one of them marry an exiled Prince and return to his lands and help him retake his throne? "

Sebastian frowned. "There is no throne to take back – it was never going to be mine."

A small grin pulled at Varric's lips. "Lighten up, choir-boy. It's only a story. Anything can happen. Like the older sister marrying the King of Ferelden, reining in the nobility and granting rights to the downtrodden. Two strong, female apostate heroines that will shape the lives of future generations to come. I can see it now."

Lorianna blew her bangs out of her face. "I'm going to Denerim to tell Cailan that I'm marrying Kael. I'm never going to be queen, Varric."

Varric shrugged. "You never know how thing are going to turn out, highness."

She blinked. "Highness?"

"Well princess was already taken," he said as he pointed to Laura.

"Enough, Varric! I'm not marrying, Seb!" Laura growled before she jumped up and ran into the inky black of the night.

Sebastian's hand rose to his heart. Her words had felt like daggers. "Your pardon," he said quietly and rose from the fire. He did not want her out there by herself, regardless of how capable she was. It didn't take long before he heard a thunk followed by a swishing noise. He followed the sounds to see her flowing around a tree, kicking at it with complex, agile movements.

"Leave me be," she said, though she did not look at him and did not stop her furious assault on the wooden victim of circumstance. She was a chaotic mess inside. Everything she'd ever believed in about herself had been thrown into upheaval. She'd never wanted any man. She'd never wanted marriage. She'd never wanted children. She'd never wanted to lose who she was. And now…in the course of a single day, nothing was as she thought it was. She cared about a man. She wanted a man – almost desperately so. She was thinking about what it would be like to be married – have children. And the man that twisted her all up inside would be gone from her life once they reached Denerim. If this was going to happen to her, why him? Why someone that would be forever out of reach? Was she some kind of cosmic joke?

The restrictive pressure of his arms came around her. She turned into him, slightly to the left, and pulled him over her right shoulder. She used a small burst of power to lighten his landing.

He blinked when he found himself flat on his back, surprised that nothing ached. "Remind me not to try that again."

Breath rushed from her lungs and she dropped to her knees next to him. "I'm sorry," she said when he sat up. "It was my fault; I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

Was she referring to tossing him on his backside? "What was your fault?"

"Nothing," she said with a shake of her head. It was too personal to talk about.

He raised his knees and rested his forearms on them. "Is the idea so horrible to you that you would vent your ire on a tree?"

She blinked. "What are you talking about?" He'd really lost her with that comment.

His brows drew together in pain. "You made your displeasure with me known – rather loudly back at camp. Everyone is quite aware that you will never marry me."

"That," she said with a soft sigh and looked down at her fidgeting hands; she clasped them tight to still them. "It wasn't right what Varric was saying. You're a prince and I'm a…."

"An Arl's daughter?" he finished for her. "

"Precisely," she said with a firm nod.

"Unless thing have changed in the last few months, you are of noble birth," he pointed out.

She shook her head. "Regardless, he was pushing something that could never be." Sebastian shouldn't have to deal with that kind of pushing, it would just make things more awkward between them.

What had happened between their horse ride and the hunt? "I thought…" He'd thought there was a mutual interest between them…maybe something special. How could he have been so wrong? He rose and dusted his backside off. "I must have been wrong." He turned and headed back to camp. He stopped a few yards away. Despite the pain of her rejection he did not feel right leaving her alone out here. A quiet sob reached his ear and he raked a hand through his hair. Why was she crying? None of this made any sense to him. He felt like a dog chasing its tail.

He turned back around to join her. He settled next to her and pulled her onto his lap. He held her while her tears dampened his tunic. "Laura, what's going on? I don't understand any of this."

"Neither do I," she mumbled and gripped his tunic in two fists, giving it a firm shake. "Why you? Of all the men I've ever met – why you? I knew what I wanted out of life. I was content with that. I reveled in that. Then you come along and challenged everything I thought I knew about myself." She shook him again. "You made me think about things – want things I'll never be able to have. You'll leave once we get to Denerim and I'll be left with…with – I was mad at me, Seb. Mad that I have a weakness."

He kissed her forehead to keep from smiling. She did care. She may not want to care, but she did. No woman had ever called him her weakness before. It was humbling. "Admitting you have a weakness shows strength. Turning that weakness into a strength shows wisdom."

She shot him a frustrated glare. "How am I supposed to do that?" It wasn't exactly like learning a new skill that practice would perfect.

One corner of his lips curled up into a lopsided grin. "By embracing the weakness and building upon it."

She couldn't keep the smile at bay. "And how do you suggest that I embrace that weakness?"

"I can think of a few ways…" he murmured with waggle of his brows.

She shook her head and laughed. "You are incorrigible, but not all together wrong. Let's say I took your advice and embraced my weakness. How do you propose that I build on it?"

He lifted his hand to brush his fingertips down her cheek. "Embrace that weakness a little closer with each passing day and practice. Lots of practice."

"Really," she inquired with an arched brow. "Sounds like a recipe for a broken heart to me."

His hand slid forward to cup the side of her neck, his thumb caressed her cheek. "Do not be afraid to take a chance. If you succeed, you will have what you want. If you fail, you grow wiser. You are stronger for it either way."

"Perhaps. But it is only a fool's errand if both are not willing to take that chance, and Varric said…"

His dark brows furrowed. "Varric said. Varric is a story teller, prone to exaggerations and even lies to make a make a story more compelling or scandalous. Even if he spoke the truth, it is your opinion that concerns me. Is that what you think? That all I'm wanting is a convenient tumble until we reach Denerim? That I feel nothing for you? That may have been true in my past, but…this is me taking a chance. When you spurned marriage to me…that hurt. It felt like you'd raked your claws across my heart. If I didn't care, I'd have been relieved when you shouted those words, not hurt. Take a chance with me, Laura. I'm willing to take a chance with you."

She placed a finger over his lips to hush him. She did not sense any deceit in him, that wasn't the problem. "If that is true, then listen to what I'm about to say before you decide that. As I said earlier, I will give you one night, free and clear. But if you want more – if you want us to take the chance that we can be more together, then you need to understand something about me. I know what relationships among the nobility are like. While my father is faithful to my mother, he was not faithful with his previous two wives. And that is compounded with Royalty. I won't live that kind of life, Seb. I don't share. If I take a chance on you – I will remain true. But I expect the same in return. If you touch another after you touch me - there is no coming back from that. Ever. If that is something you can accept, then I am willing to take a chance."

What she said was true with most marriages. Sometimes the wife was allowed discreet interludes, sometimes she wasn't, but a man could always step out, discreet or otherwise. The man he used to be might have been accepting of that kind of marriage, but the thought of another man touching her caused fury to burn in his blood. With that realization he knew that he already thought of her as his. "May I speak now?" he mumbled against her finger.

She flushed and lowered her finger. "I suppose it's only fair," she teased.

"I am more than familiar with noble marriages. My parents had an arranged marriage. I'm not looking to repeat their mistakes. I've already sewed my oats and I put that life behind me when I fled the chantry. It is past time for something real. When I look at you – when I touch you – when I talk to you, I feel things I've never felt before. I need to know if this is real. And Maker help anyone that touches you, for he will find no mercy in me," he growled.

A shiver raced down her back and she pulled him down for a heated kiss.

He broke the kiss when her belly growled and rose with her cradled against him. He carried her back to camp so they could eat before the food was wrapped up for the night.

She sat back when her belly was sated and turned her attention to Varric. "I owe you and everyone an apology for my outburst. Seb and I have come to an understanding that I am at peace with now."

"Does that mean I'll be invited to the wedding, princess?" Varric asked with a sly grin.

" _If_ we wed, then yes…I would like to see you there. What kind of friend would I be if you missed that chapter of your story?" she teased.

Varric nodded. "A poor one, I'd wager." He rubbed his knuckles against his tunic and looked down at them. "It's hard being right all the time."

Lorianna laughed. "Sorry, Varric. I'm still not going to marry the king of Ferelden. Not even for your story."

His hand flattened against his heart. "You wound me, highness."

She patted his arm. "I'm sure you'll survive, my friend. Not even the famous rogue and story teller, Varric Tethras, can be right all the time."

Varric shook his head. "Ye of little faith. Your story has only just begun, highness."

She stood up and stretched. "Well, I'm afraid it's done for the night. We rise early. I suggest you tuck in too. Sleep well, everyone. See you on the flip side."

Laura watched her sister disappear into her tent, took Sebastian's hand, rose and led him to her tent. The man had promises to keep.

Varric grinned and relaxed back against the log, studying the flickering flames. He was glad he'd decided to come along on this adventure. He couldn't help but wonder how this story would play out. But he intended to keep his ear to the ground after he returned to Kirkwall; because he had a feeling this story was a long way from being finished. It would be his grandest series yet.

-BREAK SEVEN-

It was eight days before they made sight of the royal palace. There had been days that Lorianna wanted to peel the armor off Shadow and just run, but with bandits preying on travelers, she didn't want to risk Shadow's life on the need for speed. As it was, Shadow's armor was lighter than that of the other horses. He'd been a special gift from her father. He was not the standard heavier built breeds that populated Ferelden. He was trim, long legged, clean of feathers, his face slightly dished. He was built for speed and endurance, not hauling mounted knights. But the time did allow her to get to know Sebastian and Varric better. The dwarf was a font of information, kept them entertained at the campfire and was sassy to boot. She liked him and she would miss him when he left their party. She knew he would be heading back to Kirkwall after he took care of his business in Denerim. What concerned her more was what her sister was going to do. Was she going to go to the Free Marches with Sebastian or was he coming back to the Western Hills with them? Or…would they ride off together who knows where? Neither had spoken of what they intended to do. Perhaps, they did not know yet.

Their ride through Denerim was slow with frequent stops as she stopped to talk to the children and town folks she's gotten to know over the years. She looked up and soon saw Cailan, atop a white steed, and several knights approaching them. Spotters would alert him to her arrival and he always came out to meet her ever since he was old enough to sit a horse.

The knights spread out to allow the party through them and took up their places at the rear. Cailan swung his gelding around to ride next to her. He held his hand out and grinned when she took it. "You grow more beautiful each time I see you."

"Thank you, highness," Varric said with a grin. "Sometimes I just don't feel appreciated enough."

Cailan blinked and looked at the dwarf that was seated behind her, shook his head and returned his attention to Lorianna. "I imagine you have will have an interesting story to tell this visit and I am a man that loves stories."

She squeezed his hand. "You will hear far better stories from Varric," she motioned to the dwarf with her head, "then anything I have to tell you, Cailan."

He looked back at the dwarf again. "Well then, Varric, you will have to regale me with your stories."

Varric chuckled. "That I can do, your highness." Life could take some strange turns. A surfacer dwarf that lived in a tavern in Kirkland's Lowtown was hobnobbing with nobility and royalty. That would keep him ass-deep in stories for awhile.

Cailan led them to the stable and helped Lorianna remove Shadow's light armor plating and helped her brush him down. The stable lads would see to the other mounts, but he knew she liked to take care of Shadow herself. She had ever since she got him.

As soon as the chore was complete her pulled her in for a hug and brushed his lips across hers. "I've been counting down the days until I could see you again."

"I've missed you too," she said as he led her into the castle. She dismissed her men to find their rooms and get cleaned up. Unlike her, they hadn't taken advantage of every stream they came across.

Cailan looked at the young woman standing next to Lorianna. "Laura – wow, you're all grown up now and as beautiful as your sister." He hugged her and grazed his lips against her cheek. He smiled when he saw the man at her side pull her back against him. "You have nothing to worry about with me, I see her like a little sister. She even put frogs in my bed once – said she was trying to loosen me up."

"Don't forget the swamp slime in your boots," she teased.

Cailan rubbed his forehead, his cheeks flushing. The feel of the slime sliding up between his toes had been horrendous. "I have tried to forget that."

Laura laughed softly. "Sorry, Cailan – ah hell, no I'm not. The look on your face was priceless."

No doubt it had been, but he'd gotten her back. "As was yours when I told you that I'd just found out that your father had agreed to the match between you and my father, to ensure there would be at least one strong Theirin-Wulff alliance."

That had been a particularly low blow on his part. No that she'd ever held it against him, she thoroughly deserved it. "I was furious with my father after that. But I deserved the tongue lashing my father gave me when I confronted him. My outburst made him actually consider the match and to this day I do not know if he is teasing me about that. I have no desire to be Maric's queen."

"But you are willing to be Sebastian's?" Varric chuckled. "The irony is beautiful, princess."

Laura pursed her lips at Varric's outburst and noticed the confusion in Cailan's eyes. "Cailan, I'd like you to meet Sebastian Vael, exiled prince of Starkhaven."

Cailan's brow rose. He'd heard about that, but never thought to meet the lothario. He inclined his head to the other prince. "Your reputation proceeds you," he said with a cool tone. He could not help being concerned for Laura, he spoke in truth that he considered her a younger sister.

Sebastian's cheeks heated and he inclined his head to Cailan. "A man can change."

"Can he?" Maric asked from his position lounging against the doorway.

Laura's cheeks flamed. How long had he been there? Had he heard her state that she didn't want to be his queen?

Sebastian cleared his throat and bowed. "Yes, your majesty, he can."

Maric strode into the room and folded his arms over his chest. He was not about to let Laura remain in the company of such a man. "That is something you will need to prove. You have a sennight to post your bans and marry Laura Wulff, here – in the palace, within a month from the date of posting. You will not touch her until such as time as you are wed. If that is not something you agree to, then I will send a missive letting Gallagher know that I agree to the alliance, she will become my queen and I will post the bans immediately."

The silence that befell the room was deafening. Laura may have joked about not knowing if her father had been serious….but now she knew he had been and her heart twisted with pain. "Maric…don't do this….don't force him to-"

Maric raised his hand to silence her. "The alliance has already been agreed to. Whether it is finalized is between Prince Vael and myself, either way you will be wed in a month's time. You will have two guards flanking you at all times. If you leave their sight before you wed - you will wed me immediately, bans or no. Do we have an understanding?" It was hard to keep from grinning when he saw the sparks shooting from her eyes. He knew her well enough that there was no doubt she was fuming over the choice being taken from her. What she would come to understand was that few people ever truly had free choice, from the poorest beggar to a king. Regardless, she was a stunning young woman that he would welcome into his bed. Marriage to the minx would not prove disappointing.

She felt like she was standing on the precipice of a yawning chasm. "May I have a word with you…alone, Maric?" she asked in a strangled voice.

Sebastian shook his head and broke free from the shock that had frozen him in place. "No." The look in the king's eye showed plainly the man wanted her and he was not willing to let her go. He did not want to go a night without her in his arms; he did not want to face a lifetime without her light to warm him. He had not been able to keep his heart at bay when he touched her. Each day he spent with her had strengthened his feelings for her. This was not how he imagined things would turn out. He had intended to woo her slowly and propose to her in an extravagant manner. But nor could he fault the king for forcing the choice, not when an alliance was on the table. That he was willing to allow him to marry her at all showed that the king did, indeed, care about Laura. "There is no need, Laura. I accept Maric's edict." He took her hand and knelt down on one knee.

He heart squeezed painfully. This was not what she wanted. She didn't want him to feel he was being forced into marriage with her. "Oh…Seb…"

There was little he could do to still the trembling of his body. "Will you, Laura Rose Wulff consent to be my bride…and become an exiled princess of Starkhaven?"

"…not like this."

"Are you refusing my troth?" he asked tightly. He knew she was skittish about marriage and that their time together had been limited, but they'd run out of time. He could only hope that she would choose him over the king.

She shook her head. "No – but you shouldn't have to sacrifice yourself for me."

One corner of his lips pulled up into a small grin. "Marriage is not a sacrifice. Losing you would be. You are the light that warms my heart and guides my soul. Will you wed me?"

"Yes…" she whispered through a tight throat.

He smiled, rose to a stand, and turned to face Maric. "Thank you for allowing me to make her my bride."

Maric's lips tightened, but he nodded. "If you hurt her in any way, you will not live to regret it. That promise I make to you, Vael."

"Understood, your majesty. Please see that the bans are posted and missives sent out. But I want a private wedding this eve."

Maric laughed. "Are you afraid I will woo her away from you before your troth is finalized? Or do you not wish to wait a month to bed her?"

He inclined his head to the king. "You see too well, your majesty."

The king nodded. "It will be done." He nodded to his guests and departed the room.

Cailan shuddered and released a pent up breath when he father disappeared from sight. "For a moment I feared my little sister would become my mother."

Lorianna hugged her sister and Sebastian and congratulated them before giving her attention to Cailan. "Cailan, we need to talk."

His heart stilled but he squared his shoulders. "Then come with me," he said as he held the crook of his arm out to her. He led her to the wing that held the family quarters and then up to his chambers. By the pain in her voice he suspected what he'd hoped to have happen in his chambers would have to remain hidden in his dreams. He turned to face her and took her other hand. "What did you need to tell me?"

Now that it was time to tell him, she found the words hard to force out. She loved him too much to want to hurt him like that. She looked down at their clasped hands for a moment and then took a deep breath before she raised her gaze to meet his. "You know I love you….I would give anything not to hurt you…." Again her words failed her and she swallowed hard.

The 'but' that hung between them crushed the last of his hope. "But you intend to wed my brother," he said, having forced the words past his tight throat. He cleared his throat. I will remain unwed until the time that I take the throne. If you are still wed, then I will marry Anora, as my people will want to see a me wed for the sake of an heir." He squeezed her hands. "But I need a promise from you, Lor. I need to know that if anything happens…if you find yourself – uh…free that you will return to me and become my wife." He released her hands and cupper her face, wiping her tears with his thumbs. "I love you. That is eternal, nothing will change that and I know I can make you happy. You are the only woman I want at my side. If I have to wed before you are free to return to me, I will set her aside to have the only woman I will ever truly love."

She was stunned that he would even want her after she wed another. She rose up on tiptoe to kiss the tears from his cheeks. Her heart as bruised as his. "Are you sure about that, Cailan?"

He did not try to hide the pain of his shattered heart. There would be no lies between them, not even in this. "As sure as I breathe. What we would have together would be glorious…a romance to span the ages. Stories of our love will give hope to lovers everywhere…that love can endure and thrive despite the challenges we are given."

She smiled softly. For as long as she had known him, he'd always looked at life in a way that was uniquely his own. But who could resist the picture he painted? "You have my promise, Cailan. If – if anything happens, I will return to be your wife."

He brushed his lips lightly against hers. "That's all I needed to hear. I will be content for now."

"What about Anora?" she asked gently.

He shook his head and took her hands once more. "If I have to wed her, she will not be heartbroken if I set her aside. We have become good friends, but she professes no love for me. She is but doing her father's bidding….and, I suspect, she covets the prospect of being queen," he admitted.

She frowned. She wanted so much more for him that that. "Is there no one else?" At his cocked brow she flushed. "I just – I want to see you happy."

"If ever we have our chance together, I will be. Until then, I will be content. It is as much as any man can hope for, given the circumstances. I don't suppose you will let me make love to you before you leave to wed another?" He did not expect her to accept what he was offering, but he had to try.

She shook her head. "I would no sooner do that to him than I would do that to you if we were getting married."

He nodded. She was right. He would not want her to make love to Kael one last time before marrying him. "Then let us return to the others, the bed is too close and you are too tempting," he admitted.

-BREAK SEVEN-

They had a small ceremony for Sebastian and Laura. Mother Perpetua presided over the wedding. The party lasted late in to the night. The following morning she had Cailan take them to the stables so that she could purchase a mount for Sebastian. She would have purchased Varric a stout pony, but he declined, saying he'd have no use for one in Kirkwall and didn't want to risk it getting stolen or eaten.

The first horse they were shown was a grand, white gelding whose name was Zolton.

Sebastian shook his head over the noble mount. "You've got to be kidding," he mumbled beneath his breath. "I appreciate the thought, but we do not need that kind of attention drawn to us."

They were then led to view two more horses that Maric had been willing to part with…a bay and a chestnut with white stockings. In the end, it was Dragon that chose his mount. His wife's surly horse did not tend to get along with other horses. He tolerated Shadow, but seemed to prefer to be alone. Or that was the case until they saw his head drooped over the stall wall of a neighboring horse. The two were mutually grooming each other's necks.

"Damn me," Laura murmured in surprise. "What about that one?"

Cailan looked in the direction she was pointing and just blinked. "I'll be damned. That's Titan. I've never known him to get along with any gelding. He was – er…gelded late and so far is proving unreliable around other males. Considering the knights prefer geldings, we've not been able to do much with him." He studied the dark gold and white patched gelding with the flaxen mane and tail. "He comes from good lines. He's fast, has decent endurance and he's well trained. But he can be a handful around other males, so I'm not sure he's what you're looking for."

"Can we take a look at him?" Laura asked curiously.

"Of course." Cailan tied a rope to his halter and led him out of the stall.

Sebastian looked him over appreciatively. He was built like Dragon, of medium bone and lacked feathering. He had a wide chest and a well muscled rump. He looked like he would be more suited to fast sprints rather than long endurance runs – and a fast sprint could be the difference between life or death. Most of the horses in Thedas had closer ties with draft stock, their heavier bone allowing them to carry a fully armored knight great distances. While Titan was not as refined as Shadow, but he was just as sturdy as Dragon. And he didn't need to carry an armored knight. He didn't like wearing bulky, heavy armor. He preferred to be swift on his feet.

He ran a hand down the gelding's neck, along his back and over his rump. He handled each of his legs, looking for any signs of shying or irritation. Cailan was correct, the gelding was well trained. "Would you be willing to part with him?" Sebastian asked the other prince.

"If you're sure about that…" Cailan hesitated.

Sebastian nodded. "I am. He looks like he'll be able to keep up with my wife's horse," he sent a quick wink at his wife, "and they get along. A man takes what boons he can get."

Cailan looked over at Lorianna. "Truer words…" He turned his attention back to the dark haired prince. "Consider him yours. I think my father would be relieved with this arrangement." He handed the rope to Sebastian so the man could lead his horse back into the stall.

"I will repay you for Titan," Sebastian told Lorianna.

She shook her head. "Sorry, Seb…but no you won't. You are my brother. Family owes family nothing. Consider him a wedding gift, if it sooths your ego." She grinned. "Besides, the bandits purchased the tack – I figured they owed you at least that much." She'd stayed up late with Cailan to catch up with him on the past year, so he was familiar with what happened on their journey to Denerim.

Sebastian nodded. "Thank you, Lor. You are a gracious sister." Regardless, he would find a way to square things with her.

-BREAK EIGHT-

Over the next few weeks people began pouring into Denerim to bear witness to the wedding. It was the largest noble gathering Denerim had seen for some time, surpassing even the landsmeet. The Couslands arrived before the Wulff's as their journey was far shorter. Lorianna was happy to Kael, but she was careful to keep their touching to a minimum when Cailan was around. There was no need to rub salt in the wound. Wilhelm was the only Wulff that did not make the journey. While the raids had lessened, they could not risk their keep falling while they were away. As a gift, Maric released Berchan from his military obligations, so that he could return home afterwards with his family.

Whispers from wagging tongues made their rounds after Cailan and Kael were seen side by side. Kael's hair was golden blonde, his nose a bit smaller and he was a couple of inches taller, but other than that they were the mirror image of each other. There was no denying Theirin blood ran in his veins. The attention their king was paying to the second eldest Cousland affirmed their suspicions. No one, however, allowed their whispers to reach the King's ear and if the Cousland's heard, they did not let on.

The wedding was held in the great hall. Braziers of flickering candles lent a comforting ambience. Mother Perpetua presided once more as she had during the private ceremony. Everyone had turned out in their finest, eager to witness the nuptials.

Gallagher walked is youngest daughter down the aisle to give her into the Sebastian's care. He would have preferred an alliance with the Theirins, but he could not complain about her wedding a prince of Starkhaven, even if he currently did not have his family's support. That the man appeared to care about his daughter was a boon. He and Staria had been stunned when they received the missive telling them that their daughter was to be wed in a month's time. Their youngest daughter had always been adamant about not getting married, which is why he'd proposed the alliance to Maric. When he'd presented the dowry to the prince, the prince had declined stating he'd already received the dowry in the form of a fine steed, so he'd given the money to his daughter, who had used her coin to purchase the mount.

When the ceremony ended, large tables were brought into the great hall and servants were quick to fill them with food and drink, while minstrels sang. The merrymaking had lasted well into the night, bride and groom, however, made their escape much earlier.

No one had been surprised to learn that Kyrian and Starlynn were betrothed. The young couple was inseparable - it was obvious the pairing was a love match and that made them all the more adorable. At one point, they too disappeared, likely to get away from all the fawning ladies – or, perhaps, it was only to raid the larder for cookies. Who could say what really happened once they quit the hall.

Lorianna was careful to include Cailan in whatever conversation she was having; she even saved some dances for him. She did not want him to feel left out; he was still one of her closest friends and didn't want to lose that. What did surprise her was the fact that Maric had claimed a dance with her. He did not seem in the least put out that she would be marrying Kael. He had asked many questions about her and Kael, as if he wanted to get to know Kael better. No doubt because Kael was his son. That was not something she'd ever brought up to Kael. They were her suspicions and even if she knew for sure, it was not her place. She loved Eleanor and Bryce and didn't want to cause any discord between them.

Anora was a little harder to include. She wasn't rude, but she wasn't the most outgoing of women. And she appreciated that Kael had taken the time to dance with her. Cailan had assured her that Anora was a different person when she wasn't in public. She wasn't exactly fun, but she did loosen up a lot more. She would have to take Cailan's word for that.

Kael pulled his wife into his arms for a dance. It was obvious she was exhausted. "You should go lay down."

She nodded. "I will. I can barely keep my eyes open." She yawned. "Maybe, I'll sleep in tomorrow."

Maker knows everyone else will, but he doubted she had it in her to sleep in. "I doubt it," he said with a grin as he maneuvered them towards the doorway that led to the guest wing.

Anora caught up with the couple before they reached the door. "If you do not mind, I will walk her to her room. I wish to have a word with her."

Kael nodded and brushed his lips against his wife's forehead. In truth, he had not intended to walk her to her room. They were not publically wed and he had no desire to besmirch her name. She would come to Castle Cousland after harvest season, they would have a ceremony and she would remain as his wife.

Anora thanked him and walked away with Lorianna. She remained quiet for a moment and then looked over at the woman that had been her rival all her life. A rival, but never an enemy. She had never been able to bring herself to dislike her. She wanted to, on principle, but she was a good and caring woman and that she admired. "Cailan told me what happened," she said quietly. "I know he's in love with you. I've always known. But I am a practical woman. I don't need fawning adoration from a man. I am content to be his friend. If we should someday wed, then we will have a better marriage than most nobles could hope for. It may not be a love match, but it will be a comfortable one."

She wasn't quite sure why Anora was telling her all of this or why she'd even sought her out. "Why is it that you've never taken the time to get to know me? We've known each other for years."

Anora rang her hands together. "I – my father was pushing me hard for the match. He made sure I understood that you were my rival, not my friend. I've never been one to gainsay my father. He is an intimidating man. I think he's probably one of the only men I can't handle. He is like a tidal wave."

She nodded. "I get that. Fathers are not like other men. It's like they will always see us as their little girls and it's hard for them to treat us any different."

A small smile played on her lips. "I couldn't agree more. I want you to know that I have never disliked you, despite anything father might have told me. I could see what kind of person you were by how you treated those around you. When we were little, I wanted to be like you – but…father always told me I needed to be strong like a pillar so that the people would respect me and look up to me as their future queen. Maybe he was right. If they do not see me as a friend, they will be less likely to question my decisions."

She could see some wisdom in that, but she would never wish to live her life like that. She didn't want to earn respect out of intimidation or fear. She wanted to earn respect on a personal level. "Your father is not wrong…exactly, but I could never live my life like that. There are gentler ways to earn your people's respect. My people know that I am both compassionate and fair. They know that I would not ask them to do something I would not do myself. I am a part of my people. They are my family and they know they are cared for. In this way, I win their hearts and loyalty, just as they have earned mine. Your father is an aggressive, driven man. I am only aggressive if I have been given no choice. You don't have to be like your father or me. Discover who _you_ are and be true to that."

Lorianna took Anora's hand when they stopped in front of her chamber door. "I know change can be as scary as it is exhilarating. Be the woman you want to be…even if it means you have to start being her when your father is not around. That's okay – if that's what it takes to build your confidence and understand of who you really are. I'm not saying it will be easy, but I'm saying it's worth discovering."

Anora patted her hand. "Thank you. You have given me a lot to think about. And…I'm sorry I never took the time to really know you. I hope – I hope that can change."

She smiled at the other woman. "Me too. Does that mean I will see you in the morning?"

"It does," Anora said with an incline of her head. "Good night, Lorianna." She turned to head to her own chambers.

Lorianna grinned when she watched the other woman walk. "Anora – why don't you start with that walk? No one is watching, you don't need to walk in arrogant, slow motion."

Anora stopped and looked back at the princess in surprise. "My father said it showed poise and confidence."

Lorianna shook her head. "It is a supercilious walk, pretentious even. It makes you appear unapproachable and can annoy those that have to walk with you. Look at how the noblemen walk. Do you see any of them walking like that? No. Does your father? Does the king? There is no reason for you too. If you want to be seen as strong, then walk with strength and purpose, not like a docile, arrogant woman. And for maker's sake get out of that hobbling dress once in awhile, loosen up and learn to have some fun. Wait! Come here." She hurried into her chambers and pulled an extra set of clothing from her bag. It might be a little large in the bust on Anora, but since it could be pulled down and belted, it would look fine. And since her clothing was embroidered with golden threads, she would still look noble.

"Here," she said, handing the other woman a pair of leggings and tunic. "You can look good and actually be functional. Wear them tomorrow – just make sure to belt it and have at least one sheathed dagger at your hip. We will go riding in the morning. There is a clearing that Cailan and I go to – it's where I taught him to fight like I do. I'd like to teach you too. It uses your adversary's strength and size against them. Every woman should know how to protect themselves and not have to rely on some man to do it. That is…if you are willing to learn."

Anora took the clothing offered to her. She felt a thrill of excitement that she hadn't felt in a long time. She was sure her father would not approve, but Lorianna was right. She was an adult and it was time to be less her father's daughter and more an independent woman. It was time to find out who she was and who she wanted to be. "I'm willing. And thank you. I am looking forward to the morrow. I wish we had become friends sooner. I was foolish." Friends. Besides Cailan, she really didn't have any. The women she talked to she wouldn't trust out of her sight. This – this was a new experience for her. Now she understood why Cailan had always been so drawn to Lorianna. There was both strength and compassion her. She drew you in and made everything seem like an exciting adventure to be had.

She shook her head. "You were a biddable, dutiful daughter seeking to please her father. But you are no longer a child. Now you can be an independent, strong woman with a mind of her own."

Anora held the clothing to her bosom. "You are younger than I, yet you are wise beyond your years."

"That was my mother's doing," she admitted. "Almost everything I've learned I've learned from her. She taught me to test the bounds of the impossible, to know my strengths and weaknesses and turn those weaknesses into an advantage. She taught me to hone my instincts and trust in them. She taught me that strength can be found in compassion, empathy and mercy. Most important was something she did not teach me, but something I learned through her teaching. I learned who I wanted to be and that gave me peace as well as a confidence I'd never known before. My mother is a remarkable woman."

"As are you," Anora replied. "Time for me to tuck in if I am to rise in the morn. Sleep well."

When Anora left, she removed her clothing and wiped herself down with the rag next to a basin of water. She wanted a bath, but she was too tired to order one and wait for it to be filled. She crawled into bed and drifted to sleep almost immediately.

Before the light of dawn was filtered into the room a raw pleasure tore her from the land of dreams, awakening her to the warm, agile caresses of her husband's tongue. Her hand slipped through his soft, golden waves, caressing the only part of him she could reach as the pleasure built up within her. "So close…" she murmured. She felt his hands grip her hips tighter as his tongue danced more aggressively over her swollen bud of need. Her soft moans became a hoarse cry when the pleasure burst into ecstasy.

She was beyond ready for him when he crawled up her body and sank into her still pulsing heat. He made love to her like a desperate man. She locked her legs around his hips and met each hard thrust halfway; missing his touch as much as he'd missed hers. He captured her lips, muting the cries of their release.

He rolled them onto their sides, but remained buried in her tight, gripping heat. His hand traveled up the length of her thigh, which was resting on his hip, to settle on the mound of her backside as the dawn's light filtered in through the windows. He kissed her forehead. "Missing you has been an agony, but you were sleeping so peacefully that I could not bear waking you when I arrived. You are my wife; you should be in my arms every night. The waiting is torture."

"I know," she quietly agreed. "I talked to my parents after they arrived. Now that the wedding is over they will be posting the bans for us. My parents and I will be leaving with you. We can marry once we return to Cousland Castle. I don't have to wait until after harvest."

There were no other words that could have filled him with as much joy as he was feeling now. "One month…I can wait one month." He reluctantly withdrew from her. "I need to return to my own chamber, lest tongues wag."

"Let them," she murmured, not wanting to let him go.

He brushed his lips across hers and rolled out of bed. "Sorry, my love. I have no intension of tarnishing your name. But I cannot wait until this farce is over and I no longer have to hide the fact that you are my wife."

She stretched. "We will be going riding after breakfast," she told him as she admired his backside before the view was lost when he pulled up his pants.

After he buttoned up his doublet and pulled on his boots, he leaned down to kiss her. "Then I will see you soon."

She watched him leave and then rolled out of bed to use chamber pot. The chair, stationed over the pot, was lined with soft material to keep your posterior free of splinters. When she was finished she covered the pot, washed herself down again and pulled on her clothes. Tonight she would order a bath and she was sorely looking forward to it.

Cailan pulled her aside after breakfast. "My father has spoken to your father and Kael's. He had your bans posted this morning," he stated quietly. "Since all who would attend your wedding are already here, he told Mother Perpetua that you would be wed in one week. The wedding will be held here."

She looked down at the floor. This – this was not something she wanted. She never would have hurt Cailan by having him there when she wed another. "I'm sorry, Cailan. We were going to wait. You should not have to witness-"

He waved a hand in negation. "I would not lie and say that I am okay with this. It is like a dagger in the heart. But you are my best friend and I would not wish to miss such an important day in your life. While I do not wish any ill on Kael, I cannot hope but that someday we will be standing in front of Mother Perpetua to join our lives."

What could she say to that? "I should speak to Maric."

He shook his head. "While you may have a better chance than most at swaying him, he is very pleased by your match. You may not be marrying the son he had intended you to marry; you are still wedding his son, as son that is second in line for the throne."

"What?" His words had shocked her like nothing else could have. "That's not possible. Kael knows nothing about Maric. Maric has never acknowledged him as his son and heir. That is not possible."

He took her hand. "I've have discussed Kael at great lengths with my father. It _is_ possible. After Kael was born, my father formally signed an edict claiming Kael as his son and future heir. While everyone assumes he is a Cousland, his birth name on record is Kael Bryce Theirin. He may not technically be a bastard, as he was not born without a father. But he is a royal by-blow that has been legally acknowledged. He told me there are three copies of the edict. He sealed one in the chantry archives – to be read upon his death, one in his vault, the other he gave to Eleanor. Do with this information as you will. I trust in whatever decision you make."

Varric was closer to being right than she'd ever imagined when he told her she would wed the king of Ferelden. Not that Kael would ever be king. Far too much tragedy would have to occur for that to happen - tragedy she did not want to face. "I – I can't risk tearing their family a part for something that will never have any further bearing on their lives. What I don't get is how it happened." She felt the heat climb into her cheeks. "Well, I know _how_ , but I do not understand why. Eleanor loves her husband. It is the kind of marriage most nobles can only dream of. I just can't see her cheating on him with anyone, even a king. Did he tell you how it came about?"

His lips tightened in anger. "In this case, I do not approve of my father's actions, but my father will do what he has to for the kingdom. He needed a spare heir and did not wish to wed another that would balk over his elven…proclivities. When whispers of a treasonous scandal reached his ears, he did not believe them, but he had to act on what he'd heard, so he confronted Eleanor about her husband's actions. There was no way for her to prove they had not conspired against him. The evidence, though father knew it was false, was damning. He told her he would manifest the proof needed to negate the rumors if Eleanor would agree to allow him to father a child on her. I honestly do not know if she ever told Bryce what happened or who Kael really is. If he did not already suspect, he probably does now after seeing Kael, myself and my father together."

Her hand rose to rub her temple. "I never thought he'd be capable of blackmail."

"I said as much to him and he told me sometimes sacrifices had to be made for the good of the crown. He was not proud of what he'd done. I think it sickened him to some degree, but he needed a spare heir and wanted that heir to be of high-ranking noble birth that would be raised in the manner befitting a king. The spare was safely tucked away and unknown. If our family was attacked, there would still be a remaining heir of Theirin blood to ascend to the throne. I also found out that he was not my only brother. A year after Kael's birth, a low-born mistress birthed him another son. He gave the bastard son to someone else to raise. When I found that out I sent a man to keep tabs on him. I have been kept updated on his life. His name is Alistair. He was raised to know who he was, but chooses not to use the Theirin name, which, undoubtedly, kept him safer."

Not one by-blow, but two. She couldn't help but wonder how many more there were that were never found out about. "Since he wasn't raised a noble, do you know what his life was like?"

Cailan nodded. "Eamon raised him until he was ten. You may have seen him at some point and not realized it. But when Eamon married, his wife could not handle the rumors that he was Eamon's bastard and forced Eamon to send him away. Eamon sent him to the chantry. I know my brother was not content there, but there was nothing I could do. I cannot risk exposing him and putting him in danger. The last missive I received said he was in training to be a templar. Perhaps, he has found something to believe in at last." He shrugged. "At least that is what I hope."

Cailan dropped her hand when Anora walked into the room. He was surprised to see her dressed like Lorianna. In fact, he was sure that was one of the outfits he'd seen Lorianna where. He cocked a brow at her curiously.

Lorianna grinned. "That looks good on you, Anora. You look like a woman ready to take charge and ride."

Anora looked from Cailan to Lorianna. She was not blind, she'd seen them holding hands, but she also knew that there was only friendship in the touch, at least on Lorianna's part. The woman simply could not keep her eyes off her husband for more than a few minutes if he was nearby. A smile pulled on her lips. "I feel like a new woman wearing this, like a butterfly spreading its new wings for the first time." She shot a quick glance at Cailan and cleared her throat. "I cannot thank you enough for taking the blinders off. I see much more clearly now. I love my father, but it's time I found out who I am."

"Good to hear. Cailan," she said, turning to the man next to her. "Why don't you join us? We're all going to the clearing for some relaxation and training."

Cailan grinned. "Only you would use those two words in the same sentence and make it sound possible." He took a step back from her when Kael, Laura, Sebastian, Berchan, Izot, Fergus, Varric, Kyrian and Starlynn joined them. He forced himself watch when Kael dropped a quick kiss on her lips. He swallowed hard. It was not a pain that would ever go away, but it was one he would become intimately familiar with if he wanted to continue to see Lorianna. "So it is to be another noble youth family outing," he teased. "Allow me to fetch my weapons and I will meet you at the stable."

-BREAK EIGHT-

Due to the stubbornness of their horses, Laura and Sebastian took up the rear position when they left the stables. "How does he feel under you?" she asked her husband.

"Thank you, again. Titan is – well, I've never ridden a finer mount. He feels like Dragon. He is light of foot and responds as if he already knew what I was going to ask of him. I can feel the power in him, like he's coiled and ready to spring into action."

She bit her lip. "There is something you need to know, because I want no secrets between us. My father paid me back for him after you refused my dowry. Titan is my dowry."

His lips tightened and he nodded. "Your father is a clever man." He'd been neatly outwitted by the man, but he'd earned his respect.

Once they reached the clearing they released the horses to graze, the others split off and began to spar in pairs. Varric sat down and leaned against a tree to eat an apple. He had little interest in sparring, he had come for the story.

Lorianna spent her morning with Anora, teaching her the basics of self-defense. At one point she'd called Fergus and Sebastian over to join them. Fergus had a few training sessions with Kael, but by in large he'd been too busy with his duties to spend much time on it and Sebastian had only been training for the last six weeks, so both were relatively new to the fighting style used by her family. She sparred with deliberate and slow movements with them to point out point out mistakes made as well as when to counter effectively. It was easier for Anora to see the mistakes being made rather than just experience them.

She spent more time with the trio and then split them off in pairs. For now, she sparred with Anora. While size ultimately did not matter, it did make learning a bit easier when your partner was of a similar size. An hour later it was obvious Anora's strength was waning and she called it quits for her. The two women sat against a tree watching the others spar with each other. "If you wish to keep the training up, we can come out here every morning, if you like." Legion settled between her legs and laid his head on her thigh. She stroked him absently.

She watched the others train for a few moments before replying. "I would like that. It's exhausting, I won't lie, but it also makes me feel good." That was very true, but she also liked being around them. She had always held herself away from everyone in the past. But now, she almost felt like she belonged…that she was a part of something and she didn't want to give that up.

She patted Anora's knee. "It will get easier in time, once you build your stamina. When it is time for us to leave, Cailan will be able to continue your training. I've been training him for years. He threw me on my backside once." Of course, she'd been distracted by a couple of squirrels that had been playing tug-o-war with a colorful ribbon they'd found. But, all was fair in love and war.

Anora smiled at her friend. Was it too soon to call her friend after the way she'd treated her in the past? It didn't matter, that was how she saw her now. "I always wondered what you and Cailan were up to when you left the keep."

She chuckled. "I bet you thought we were up to no good."

"You probably were," Varric agreed. He laughed when Lorianna stuck her tongue out at him.

"That might have crossed my mind on more than one occasion," Anora admitted. "The magically disappearing sweet-treats Franny was always grumbling about surely did not disappear on their own…and just as surely did not randomly appear in my room."

Lorianna flushed. "I am remarkably skilled at not getting caught. But, I was the one that placed some in your room. I knew you wanted them as much as we did, but I was pretty sure you would never come with us to sneak them."

"I wouldn't have back then, but I might now," she replied with a grin. "Back then I saw you as children. I was five years older than Cailan and ten years older than you, but I did appreciate the stolen sweets," she admitted.

"Watch that shoulder, Fergus! That's a dagger, not a sword in your hand!" She turned back to Anora. "Daggers are new to both of them. Fergus keeps trying to swing it like a sword and Seb is trained with a bow, so neither know how to use a dagger properly. They both have the basics down for the most part, but neither are flexible enough yet for the more advanced moves. Kyrian! Laura! Team up. I want you to show Anora what two people trained in the art can do. No daggers – just your sharp wit."

"Funny. Can I drop him on his ass?" Laura asked with a laugh.

"If you can," Kyrian shot back.

Everyone stopped their sparring and turned to watch. In a blink, arms and legs were moving in what appeared to be a choreographed dance, bodies twisted to avoid blows or flipped back out of the way. Their bodies flowed around each other, perfectly attuned to the other's slightest movement.

Sebastian took a step forward when a kick landed against his wife's side, but she stepped into it and pivoted, intending to toss her brother to the ground. He followed through on the momentum and twisted from her grasp, landing back on his feet. After a few more minutes, they conceded a tie. Only because they were already exhausted by all the sparring they'd done, of course.

Sebastian had never actually seen what his wife could do. He and Varric had seen the girls fight the bandits, but the bandits did not know how to counter their fighting technique. But to watch it performed by one as equally talented had been impressive. He doubted he'd ever be that good, but if he even developed half her talent he would be content.

Anora released a slow breath. "That was like some kind of dance, like everything was well rehearsed. They simply….flowed out of the way as if they were made of air. That was amazing! Are you that good?"

Lorianna laughed. "On my better days."

"Bah – don't listen to that bullshit," Kyrian retorted. "Only mom might be able to beat her and that's not a wager I'd place."

"Don't let mom here you say that, Kyrian!" Lorianna said with a shake of her head.

They all settled on the grass to enjoy the bit of peace they had left before they had to return to the keep for lunch. "It's too bad Oriana didn't decide to join us," Lorianna told Fergus.

"She told me that while I was out playing she was going to take Oren to the kitchen and help Fanny make cookies. Besides, she hates watching me spar – she's afraid I'm going to get hurt," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"I can't believe how fast Oren is growing. Every time I see him it's hard to believe how much he's changed."

Fergus chuckled and slapped his knee. "We thought the same thing about you. Every time you came to visit you were almost unrecognizable. And the looks Kael gave you when you weren't looking could have set the keep on fire. We had a running wager going on when he'd give in and actually kiss you." He looked over at Cailan and felt the heat creep into his cheeks when he saw the man's naked pain. "Sorry," he mumbled and cleared his throat.

"Who won the wager?" Varric inquired.

"Nan, of all people, if you will believe it. Uh – she's our lead cook and as sour and bossy as all hell," Fergus explained.

Varric chuckled. "Sounds like she knew more than she let on."

Izot brought her knees up and rested her arms on them. "The auger gave me a message for you before his clan had to move to their summer camp. He said he'd look at the stars each night and would be comforted knowing that no matter how far away you are that you were still looking at the stars with him and one day he will kidnap you, even if he had to leave the clan to do so."

Berchan laughed. "Sounds like somebody is in love with my little sister." He flushed. "Somebody else."

This conversation was getting decidedly uncomfortable. "Are you still seeing Azur, Izot?" she asked quickly to change the subject.

Varric's brows rose and his interest peeked when he noticed she changed the subject.

She nodded. "I am and I don't intend to stop seeing him. He stayed behind when his clan moved camp."

Kael settled a hand on Lorianna's forearm. "Wait. You never told me about the auger. And just why would he tell you about kidnapping you? Was he threatening you?"

Izot laughed. "Not hardly. Avvar make arrangements with their chosen wife and her parents to kidnap her. It is part of their marriage ceremony. They have to prove to the wife's parents that they are capable men."

Kael shook his head. "This avvar – the auger. He wanted to kidnap you to make you his wife?"

"Why didn't you say anything to m – us?" Cailan asked with a frown.

Lorianna shook her head. "I wasn't trying to hide anything, I just didn't think about it. He asked me if he could kidnap me several times. But he never would have done it unless I agreed. He respected the Witches of the Hills too much to force the issue. We became friends. That is all."

Anora's brows rose. "Witches of the Hills? Are they anything like the Witches of the Wilds?"

Lorianna glanced at her brother and sisters and laughed. "Not at all. There are rumors of powerful witches that protect the Western Hills. Apparently, they are masked, no one knows who they are and there have been no reports of them harming anyone accept for those that raid the Hills." She shrugged. "But those are only stories - whispers around campfires. Who can say what is fact and what is fiction? Stories tend to be born on the wind and take on lives of their own."

Varric grinned. She was right about that. Especially, when he told the story.

"We've allowed the stories because they help curtail the numbers of raids we have," Kyrian added.

"It's obvious he doesn't see you as just friends if he still wants to kidnap you," Kael pointed out. "And why haven't I met him?"

She closed her eyes for a moment. "You never met Gavorn because his clan only winters near us. You are not here during the winter and neither is Cailan. There was no way either of you could have ever met him. Trust me when I tell you he may want marriage, but he is content with friendship." He did not look like he was going to drop it and she released a slow breath. "He thinks that I am one of the Witches of the Hills. I let him believe that because it made things easier. He will not force the issue because one, he respects me and two, he believes I can kill him with only a look if I wanted to. Thus, he is content with friendship. End of story."

Kael nodded in understanding. The auger must have been powerful enough to sense his wife's power. Either way, he was glad she would not be returning to Craighorn Keep. And when she visited, he'd be with her. End of story.

"Are you going to let Azur kidnap you?" she asked Izot.

Izot shrugged. "He's amazing and I enjoy being with him – there's been nobody since him, but we come from two different worlds." She looked at the others, because they wouldn't understand. "It's not like I'm nobility and he's a peasant, though that is not far from the truth. However, it goes far deeper than that. The core of the avvar beliefs are very different than my beliefs. And we have many decisions to come to an agreement on before we think of marriage. Will we live with his clan or mine? Or half the year in one and half in the other? Or do we run off into the sunset together and make our own futures? How will our children be raised? With his beliefs or mine? And fuck me; let's not even think about how my dad will react." She shook her head. "We are not taking any of those decisions lightly. Do I want him to kidnap me? Yes, if we can work everything out."

Well, sweet damn. Her older sister was growing up. "I commend you for what you're doing. It looks like you have everything well thought out. And you're right, dad will probably blow his top – then again, he might just be relieved at the idea of you getting married and be pleased. Either way, I'm sure mom will prod him in the right direction."

Cailan looked up at the sky to judge the time. "We should be getting back, dinner will be served soon. Franny won't leave the food out for long. If we miss it, we'll have to wait for supper, unless we are willing to brave a scolding. Which, I am not," he admitted.

-BREAK NINE-

Each morning they rode out to the clearing and practiced their sparring until noon. Each afternoon they raced their horses to give them some exercise and then went to the Denerim market to spend money. Each evening they would spend time with the _elders_ , as they jokingly called their parents. At the end of the week, there was another lavish wedding. Kael Cousland and Lorianna Wulff were formally wed. The non-familial guests left shortly thereafter. The families stayed on for a couple of more days before they left, amidst tears and round after round of hugs. It was hard leaving everyone behind. It always had been for her. Even Loghain had come around and was more pleasant ever since he learned she was going to marry Kael and not Cailan.

After her parents returned to the Hills, they would send a wagon with much of Lorianna's things, though some would be left behind for her visits. Lorianna had promised to send regular missives to Cailan, Anora and her family. Sebastian was returning with his wife to Craighorn Keep. They were losing a daughter, but gaining a son. An honor guard had take Varric to the dock so that he could take a ship back to Kirkwall.

It only took four days to get back to Highever. It was unfortunate that her family's arling was at the ass end of Ferelden. At least there was no adjustment period for her. She'd lived at the Couslands three months every other year. She was as familiar with it as her own home, which it now was. The only downside was that she only had four sets of clothing since she'd given one to Anora. That meant she was washing clothes more frequently than she liked. When she found that her clothes were returned to her closet in a clean state she hunted down who was responsible. She had been assigned a lady's maid. Once she heard the elf's plea, she could not turn her away. Dinari would be sent back to the alienage and her dream of working in the keep would forever be lost to her.

She already knew the working of a keep, it was not much different here than at her own home and since she was more than familiar with the running of the Cousland Keep, there was nothing left for her to learn. And since she was the wife of a spare, her time was her own. At least she had Legion. He was a piece of home that would always be with her.

Kael had told her that when he turned thirteen the king had absolved him from any military obligation. The missive claimed he owed the Couslands and that was his way of repaying them. Lorianna didn't say anything, but she suspected he was absolved to keep him safely out of harm's reach. Regardless, she was thankful. She could not imagine staying at home while he went away to play soldier. She shook her head to return to the present to continue picking herbs with Dinari that she would dry and put around their bed and in their dresser drawers. The dried herbs would keep the bugs away and she did not like bugs.

She stilled when a deep sense of dread washed over her. Pain. Overwhelming pain. "No…" She handed the large bowl to Dinari. "Please see that these are placed in the sunlight. I – I have to go. Thank you," she said as she took off at a run for the keep, Legion whining at her heels.

Dinari leapt up and ran after her mistress, the bowl clutched tight to her bosom. She'd never seen her mistress so distressed. It was like she was a tower of strength and nothing bothered her. To see the color drain from her face was almost more than she could bear. She'd come to care for her mistress a great deal over the last many months. She was kind, compassionate, always eager to help anyone who needed it, regardless of their station and was more than willing to do for herself. She's never met a noble quite like her before.

Dinari set the bowl on a side table and ran through the castle and out the side entrance that led to the training grounds to find Kael. When she saw him she waived her arms above her head and shouted out his name until he turned around to look at her. She doubled over to catch her breath. "Something is wrong with my mistress. She is in great distress. You must-" But he was already running back towards the keep. She smiled. The love they had for each other warmed her heart and gave her hope that someday she would find a love like that. She hurried back to the keep, but didn't even try to catch up with Kael. She was simply too winded.

He looked for her as he ran through the keep and up the stairs to the family quarters. He found her in their room, dressed for travel, throwing clothes in a cloth bag. "Lor – what is going on?"

"I have to go…" she mumbled.

He took the bag from her hands and turned her around to face her. That is when he saw the tears that wet her cheeks. "What happened? Where do you have to go? I don't understand."

She gripped his forearms. "Cailan…something happened. There is great pain. I cannot bear it. We must go." She pointed to a second bag at her feet. "I've already packed your things."

He nodded. "We'll go. The soldiers will be ready within two hours. We will take our leave then," he assured her.

She pulled back from him. "I'm sorry. Follow behind with your soldiers, if you must, but I'm leaving now. Something is dreadfully wrong and I will not delay." She swung her bag over her shoulder, pulled her bedroll from the closet and hurried out the door.

No way in hell was he letting her ride on ahead without him. He grabbed his bedroll and the bag she'd packed for him and hurried down the stairs to find one of his parents so that they would know what was happening. He found his father in the study, explained what happened and told him he could send soldiers to follow, but they were not waiting and then he rushed from the study before his father could get a word in.

When he reached the stable he noticed his horse was ready to go. The armor was lacking but he knew she was in a hurry. And it was just as obvious that she knew he'd come with her. He swung up on Taibor's back and they were off to the North Road. He felt bad for Legion and Taltos, who were built for swift charges, but not endurance runs. But he had little doubt the warhounds would find them. They always had.

She was forced to rein Shadow in so that he husband could keep up. She would worry too much for his safety if she left him in the dust. When dusk set in she looked for a place to camp overnight and spotted a small clearing not far from the road. She dismounted and laid out their bedroll while he got the fire started. They did not have to go far into the line of trees behind them to find a couple of nesting pheasants. He carried the carcasses and she gathered the eggs. She didn't watch while he plucked and gutted the birds – not that she was squeamish or anything. She could handle blood and gore – just not with something she intended to eat.

One of the birds was roasting over the fire; the scent was like a dense cloud of heaven around the camp, which caused her belly to growl in anticipation. The other one was cut in half to feed the dogs when they arrived. The eggs would make for a tasty, if small breakfast. But that didn't matter; they'd be reaching the castle before the noonday meal.

After they were finished they could feel the air around them growing heavy. It was going to rain and they didn't have a tent with them. They quickly dug a small trench around their bedroll so the water would not creep onto their bedding. When the first drops spattered against them they crawled onto their bedroll and pulled a large, oiled skin over the top of them.

As a newly married couple, boredom did not come into play. Ingenuity did, however, because they could not risk tenting the blanket too high. Sleeping on a wet bedroll in wet clothes held little appeal, even to a young, adventurous couple.

With naught but her belt removed, the flap of his pants untied and hers pulled down to just below her backside, he was able to spoon around her, his hand having full access to stroke his wife's glorious body that was hidden beneath her tunic. He made love to her twice before sleep overtook them.

Thankfully, the rain had stopped by dawn's rise. Because, let's face it…riding in the rain was as appealing as sleeping in it. After seeking out a bush, she wiped down a stone and placed it near the edge of the fire to cook the eggs. She tossed one egg to each of the dogs, which had caught up with them in the middle of the night, and she and Kael polished off the remaining eggs.

They shook out the bedding, rolled it up and tied it to the back of the saddles before breaking camp and hitting the road again.

An hour into their ride she sensed they were not alone. There were five people on the left and the malignancy made her shudder. She maneuvered her horse around his to keep him on her right side. "Bandits ahead. You'll see them in a moment. Stay on my right side and keep moving." She did not have time to play around with the idiots.

She saw the overturned wagon on the left hand side of the road and as they approached a man stepped onto the road and waved his arms, crying for help. She honored him with a one finger salute and sent a powerful burst of energy that picked up the wagon, she then brought her hand down and the wagon shattered against the ground. She pulled the lightsaber from her belt, ignited it and threw it towards the man that had flagged them down. His head tumbled from his body a moment later the body fell and her lightsaber returned to her hand. She continued running without looking back.

He was stunned. He knew what she was capable of, but she always showed restraint and mercy, but what he'd seen – there was no mercy in that. "That was so unlike you," he told her when he could not hold the thought back any longer.

She could understand his reticence. "Did you notice the fresh mounds on both sides of the road? We were going to be two more mounds added to their growing collection – or at least that was what they intended. I could not, in good conscience, leave them alive to kill the next family unfortunate enough to be traveling to Denerim. Nor did I have the time to fight them, round the survivors up and march them into Denerim, where they would have likely met their fates dancing on the gallows. I'm sorry if that sounds cold or cruel, but whatever is happening in Denerim is far more important to me right now than showing compassion to murders."

Now that she had explained, he understood her rationale. Had he the power, he would have done the same thing; he had just been surprised she had done so; she was by far the more compassionate of them. "That wasn't what I meant. I have no qualms about their deaths. I would have killed them without thought to serve justice. I was just surprised that you did."

She weaved around a rut in the road. "I would have preferred things to have been different, but the closer we get to Denerim. I don't know, Kael….the sense of loss and pain grows stronger. It cries out from all directions. Whatever is happening, more than just Cailan is being affected."

And that worried him. Was Denerim under attack? If so, they were not prepared. Even their horses were unarmored for the sake of urgency. And if not that, was an illness sweeping through the city? There was no way to tell what awaited them in Denerim.

As they approached the city they heard no signs of battle. They skirted around Denerim to the castle's rear entrance, as horses were not allow through the town square. They knew their progress was being monitored and the guards opened the gates to allow them entry without a qualm. What had surprised her was the fact that Cailan was not riding out to greet her as he always did.

Instead of taking Shadow to the barn she headed straight for the portcullis, which rose as they approached and she leapt off his back when they reached the castle entryway. She spotted a maid, moving far slower than they were wont to do. "Where is Cailan?"

"The king is in his chambers," she replied in a voice still imbued with shock.

Lorianna shook her head. "I wasn't asking about Maric. I want to know where Cailan is."

She held her hands up and took a step back. "Please, my lady, just go to the king's chamber, you are expected."

Lorianna frowned and looked up at her husband. This was most odd. "Thank you," she told the maid and hurried towards the family's wing. They took the circular stairs two at a time. Her head swung to look at Cailan's door as they passed it, but continued on to the Maric's suite of rooms. She knocked on the door waiting to be admitted. Had it been Cailan's room, she'd have walked right in like she always had, but she was not so brazen as to do that to Maric; she would have been mortified if she had and he was not alone.

The door opened but before she could take a step in she was being crushed against the hard wall of a chest. It took her a moment to realize that Cailan was the man crushing her and something was very wrong. His body was trembling; there was a thick cloud of fear, sorrow and pain that was nearly suffocating. She hugged him back.

"I need you right now. I'm glad you're here," he said in a gravelly voice. "I did not expect my missive to reach you so quickly – or at least not for you to get here so quickly."

She pulled back enough to look up into his eyes. She gently wiped the tears away. "If a missive was sent, we likely left before it arrived. I could sense your pain – I had to find out what happened. I had to be here for you."

Cailan blinked. "Then you don't – you don't know?" He nodded to his brother, took her hand and led her into the sitting room to a group of chairs in front of the fireplace. He settled next to her, but did not release her hand. "My father…" he cleared his throat. "My father sailed out to Wycome, in the Free Marches, to help with peace talks to settle disputes between the ruling lords. He never made it to Wycome. He was lost at sea. Two days ago he - he was declared dead and I…there was a coronation…I'm king. Loghain would not accept what happened; he sailed out to search for my father." He gripped her hand tighter. "I didn't want this, Lor. I was in no hurry to be King…to marry someone else." He raked his free hand through his pale blonde hair. "The banns were posted this morning for my marriage to Anora. But I meant every word I told you. If something happens-" he shot a quick sidelong glance at Kael. "If something happens to Kael, I want you to be my wife. Anora is my friend, she will never be in want, but you have always been my heart."

Kael frowned. He did not appreciate hearing words of love to his wife from another man's lips. "Do you intend to do something to hurry that along, Cailan?" he asked in a dangerously soft voice.

Cailan straightened his shoulders. "Of course not. You are my b…my friend – you are like a brother to me. She chose you and I accept that. I would never wish for any harm to come to you, nor do I wish any pain upon her."

She was in shock. Maric was a charming rogue and he'd always treated her with love, as if she were his daughter. His loss was a painful blow. "Cailan I-"

He shook his head; he couldn't bear to hear 'I'm sorry' one more time. "There is more. He loved you, you know. He couldn't stop talking about you. In his heart, you were the daughter he never had. There were a couple of edicts he had archived – to be opened upon his death. One of those I sealed; only to be opened upon my death. The other granted you the title of Teyrna of Denerim. It has already been recorded. Since my father could not legally have you as his daughter, he granted you the title and your own wing in the Royal Palace. The keep is as much yours as it is mine. Fitting as it used to be the Teyrn of Denerim's keep."

She rubbed her forehead with her free hand. "This is too much. It's surreal." She shook her head. "Would it be better for you if I just used the Teyrn of Highever's Estate in Denerim? Since it's just south of the Royal Palace it will not be far away." She had no desire to hurt him by forcing him to see her with Kael frequently.

His brows drew together. "No. This is the seat of the Teyrnir. You are expected to be here. I have no issue with that; it will be good to have you – both of you nearby, especially right now," he admitted.

She covered his hand with her other hand. "We will always be here for you if you need us."

A small smile played over his lips. "Is that you swearing fealty to me?" he teased.

She shrugged. "If that is how you wish to take it. Swearing fealty between us is nonsensical and weak. The bond we have is far closer than any oath of fealty could ever be. You know I'm here for you."

He nodded. "I know. And don't you ever call me 'your majesty'. I will always be your Cailan, being king has no bearing on that. I don't want that kind of formality between us – and I do not care if tongues wag. I suspect we are all strong enough to deal with that."

She grinned. "If that is your wish, y-" Her smile broadened when she saw his finger wagging in warning. "-Cailan."

He squeezed her hand and released it. "Now that you have eased my suffering, you should check on Anora. She is distraught over her father leaving, fearing he will face the same fate as my father. I have not been in any condition to ease her worry – but I think spending time with you will ease her as it has eased me. Kael, please stay with me awhile longer."

She rose when Cailan did and hugged him before leaving the men alone to find Anora.

-BREAK TEN-

The first week consisted of the new Teyrna and Teyrn of Denerim accepting fealty from the local nobility. By the end of the first week a wagon arrived bearing much of their belongings from Highever. Bryce and Eleanor received the missive a day after they had left for Denerim. The missive had explained the king's death, Cailan's ascension to the throne and Teyrnir being granted to Lorianna and Kael.

The wedding of Cailan to Anora was a grand extravagance. Once again the palace was filled and the local inns overflowed to see their good king wed. Within a week the guests went home to their lives and normalcy settled back over Denerim.

They visited one side of the family each year. In 9:26 they visited West Hills, in 9:27 they went to Highever. In 9:28 they returned to West Hills, where both families had come together to witness the wedding of their children, Kyrian and Starlynn. It was about that time that Lorianna and her family began to sense a strange darkness that none of them understood, but because they could not locate the cause of it, there was nothing they could do.

In 9:29 they briefly visited Highever, by 9:30 they knew what the darkness they felt truly was. Darkspawn. In such a time of unrest, Lorianna could not leave Denerim, though she was sending her army with Cailan. It frustrated her to remain behind. The battle would need her. But it had been Cailan's request that she remain behind and keep order. Kael, however, received a missive from his father asking him to return to Cousland Castle, as he and Fergus were going to be leading their army to join up with Cailan's to stop the darkspawn.

It had not been easy watching him leave. She worked herself to exhaustion to fill the void of his absence, but there was nothing she could do to make the nights easier to bear. She made sure to attend every meeting that Cailan and Loghain had to discuss strategy for the coming war. Loghain's fanaticism did not sit well for her. He refused to entertain the notion of have Orlesian troops back them up. Even bringing all her diplomatic skills to bear, she could barely budge him from his stance. Something about him made her uneasy, but she could not put her finger on it.

Before the men left with the troops, she pulled Cailan aside. "Don't do this, Cailan. Don't go." A cold chill swept down her spine and she rubbed her arms to try to warm them."I don't like what I'm feeling," she murmured.

He pulled her into a hug. "We don't even know if this is a true blight - if it's not, then this is my only chance to ride into battle with the Grey Wardens."

She gripped the front of his doublet. "There is more at stake than the glory of battle! I can't lose you…Ferelden can't lose you." She shook her head. "I don't agree with anything else Loghain has said, but I agree with him on you staying here."

He knew she'd never liked or trusted Loghain. And even though his father had trusted Loghain, he never discounted her feelings. He made nice to Loghain, because of his father and because of Anora – but he was also wary. He did not trust him blindly as his father had done and that was because of Lorianna. He loved her and trusted more than anyone else. "What I'm doing is for Ferelden. Keep in mind that you will be wed to the king of Ferelden someday. I have a lot to come home for," he teased. "Destiny must be fulfilled."

"Varric…" she mumbled and released a slow breath. Varric and his stories – but this was not a story. This was real and there could be devastating consequences. "I'm not okay with this, Cailan. I love you. I-" His lips silenced her. They moved sensually against hers, but he asked for no more.

Those words meant more to him than any other words could. His hands moved up to grip her shoulders. "I love you, Lorianna. I will be home before you know I'm even gone. I promise you that."

Her forehead dropped to his chest just above where her hands gripped tight to his doublet. She looked over at the doorway to see Anora walking in. "He won't stay," she told her quietly.

Anora looked from Cailan to Lorianna, both clutching each other. She was actually thankful Cailan was in love with her friend. She had little doubt that his love for Lorianna was the only thing that kept him from seeking pleasure outside of their marriage, not that he sought pleasure within their marriage. He had refused to touch her, as he had any woman. At least she did not have to suffer the disgrace of an unfaithful husband. But she'd been hoping that his love for the other woman would keep him home where he would be safe. She, herself, wasn't in love with him, but she did care about him a great deal. "I know. I thought if anyone could change his mind it would have been you."

Lorianna rolled her eyes and gave Cailan's doublet a hard shake. "It would appear that he holds the Grey Wardens in higher esteem than me."

His grip tightened on her arms until she looked up at him. "Don't ever think that. I know where my heart lies. As dreams go – you far surpass the Grey Wardens. I'm not going because that dream means more than you. I'm going because it is my duty as King to protect my country from any threat. I cannot expect my army to give all if I am not willing to fight alongside them and do the same. And I happen to know a certain woman who showed me what kind of man I wanted to be."

"Damn you…" she murmured. "Using me against me. That's not fair." Clever too. He tended to act as an unassuming man with his head in the clouds; he preferred people to underestimate him – it gave him an advantage he could use if needed. But he'd never acted that way around her. She knew the real Cailan.

He grinned. "Must I also point out that on more than one occasion you have told me that all is fair in love and war?"

She pursed her lips. "Yes, but that applies to me – not you."

He chuckled. "Be that as it may, you cannot lay that at my feet - you neglected to tell me that part," he pointed out.

The next morning he rode out with Loghain and his army – Ferelden held its breath.


	2. A Thedas Tale Ch2 - Highever

Dragon Age

A Thedas Tale

Ch 2 – Highever

It was strange being home again without his wife. He saw her everywhere he went. A smile in front of a window, a smudge of dirt on her cheek in the gardens, dropping soldiers on their asses on the training grounds, curled up with a book in the library – the worst was the room they had shared…the room he grew up in….she was sitting in front of the mirror, soaking in the tub, dancing naked in the moonlight that caressed her through their bedroom windows and the bed…sweet hell, it was almost too much to bear.

He'd only been back two days when he found out his brother would be riding out with the Cousland army. His father would wait until Howe's men showed up to ride out with his old friend. He entered the keep with a frown. He had no clue how long his father and brother would be away….how long he would be kept from his wife. His sister, too, had returned to the keep to fulfill their mother's duties while she was away at lady Landra's, to comfort her since her son was going to battle with his father. Their mother intended to leave right after their father did.

He followed the voices he'd heard into the main hall, where he saw his father talking with his old friend, Rendon Howe. He couldn't stop the grin. His wife called Howe an oily ass-weasel after she'd first met him. That would forever stick in his head. It was hard to look at the man and not laugh.

Bryce smiled when he saw his son. "Ah, Kael; I didn't see you there. Rendon, you remember my son?"

His eyes narrowed on the young man. "How could I not, Bryce? The new Teyrn of Denerim. He and that pretty little wife of his are all the talk – you just can't get away from it. Pleased to see you again, lad."

Lad? Could he be any more purposely condescending? "Likewise, _Rendon_. I've been Teyrn for five years now. That is hardly to be considered as _new_."

Rendon sniffed loudly. "Right…right. But when you have as much grey in your hair as I do, five years means little, I'm afraid. Oh – my daughter, Delilah, asked after you. Perhaps I should bring her next time."

He grinned. Oily ass-weasel. "By all means," he said as he inclined his head. "Orin needs to spend more time with friends his own age." Do not play a game of wits with me, serah.

Rendon's lips thinned. "I'm sure he does. You know your father and I discussed an arranged marriage between you and my daughter. Had Miss Wulff chosen to wed the prince, you'd be my son." His thin lips pulled into a smile.

Kael stiffened as a shudder went down his spine. He shot a hard look at his father. His father had never told him about that _arrangement_. In this case, ignorance was bliss. But if he had not finally come to his senses and fight for what he wanted, he'd have been wed to…it did not bear thinking on. "Perhaps, that arrangement could be made with Orin. He will, after all, be Teyrn someday."

Bryce looked over at his old friend. "Even had Lorianna chosen the prince, I doubt he'd have been receptive, Rendon. My fierce son has always had a mind of his own, Maker bless his heart."

"Yes, so I see. A temperament to match his fighting skill. Well done, my friend."

A golden brow arched. Boot licking. What did his father see in that man?

"I dare say his mother had a lot to do with it. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree." Bryce turned to his son. "At any rate, your mother and I appreciate you returning to the castle while we are away. Only a token force is staying here in the region. You know what they say about mice when the cat is away, yes?"

He inclined his head. "Of course, father. That is why my wife remained in Denerim, she needs to keep the mice at bay."

Bryce turned his head when the door opened and a young soldier stepped in. "There is someone you must meet. Please…show Duncan in." He turned back to his son when the soldier fist bumped his chest in acknowledgement.

"It's an honor to be a guest within your hall, Teryn Cousland," Duncan said as he closed in on the small group of nobles.

Rendon's heart dropped in shock. A grey warden. It was too late to back out now, Teyrn Loghain was expecting results. If the grey warden held to his code, he would not get involved. Either way, no witnesses could be left to speak of what happened. The Maker had blessed him, though. It was convenient to have all the Cousland brats in one place. It was unfortunate that the eldest son did not stay, but the darkspawn would take care of that particular loose end. "Bryce, you did not mention that a Grey Warden would be present."

"Duncan arrived just recently, unannounced. Is there a problem?" he asked with concern.

"Of course not," Rendon said with a chuckle, attempting to cover up his slip. "But a guest of this stature demands certain protocol. I am…at a disadvantage."

Bryce nodded. "We rarely have the pleasure of seeing one in person, that's true. Kael, Brother Aldous had you study the Grey Wardens, did he not?"

"Of course, father. They are an order of great warriors that defeat the darkspawn during the blights."

"Right you are. Ducan is looking for recruits before joining us and his fellow Wardens in the south. I believe he has his eye on Ser Gilmore," Bryce explained.

Gilmore would do, but that was not who he came for. "If I may be so bold, I would suggest your son is also an excellent candidate," Duncan put forth.

Bryce frowned. "Honor though that might be, this is one of my children we're talking about and I have no desire to face his wife if he ran off to join the Wardens. She is a force to be reckoned with and I love her all the more for it." His brows drew together. "Do you intend to invoke the Right of Conscription?"

That was disappointing. It was preferred for Wardens to be unmarried, so as not to leave behind families they might never see again. "Have no fear. While we need as many good recruits as we can find, I've no intension of forcing the issue."

Bryce released a slow breath. "Son, can you ensure that Duncan's requests are seen to while we're away?"

"Of course, father. You did not need to even ask that," he said with a grin.

He studied his son. "Sometimes it's hard to remember that you that you are the Teyrn of Denerim and not the same little boy that used to sneak cookies with Lorianna."

Kael laughed. "Don't bet on that father, we still sneak cookies from Franny's larder. We just don't get caught anymore – at least not since I started listening to my wife. She is uncanny at remaining undetected."

"So it _was_ your fault that you two got caught so many times as children," Bryce chuckled and cleared his throat when he recalled they were not alone. "In any case, find Fergus and tell him to lead the troops to Ostagar tonight. I have not had the chance to discuss that with him yet."

He nodded. "I would imagine he is with his wife and son - that is where I would be."

"He is. Thank you, son."

He inclined his head to the three men. "I will take my leave, please excuse me."

He exited the main hall through the left door and followed the walkway toward the family quarters. He came to a stop when one of the guards, an old friend that he'd gotten into more mischief with than he cared to admit, hurried towards him.

"There you are! I knew you were speaking with the Teyrn, so I didn't want to interrupt."

He grinned and shook his head. "It is good to see you too, Gilmore."

Gilmore blinked and then looked around to make sure they were alone. "Sorry, Kael. It's just that I've been looking all over the castle for you." He grinned. "I fear Taltos has the kitchen in an uproar once again. Nan is threatening to leave."

"Nan has always been full of bluster. She'd never leave." He sighed. "Did he get into the larder again?"

"He did. No matter how the maids try to keep him out, he always finds a way in. He's a crafty one, that Taltos," Gilmore replied.

"Fine, let's get him before Nan takes it out on the help." Unfortunately, Nan had little patience. She tended to be more bark than bite.

Kael turned away from the family quarters and headed towards the kitchen.

Gilmore rubbed the back of his neck. "I've always envied you and Lor having your own mabari war hounds. My father used to say they were smart enough not to talk. Of course, that means they're easily bored. Nan swears he confounds her just to amuse himself."

"I might have to agree with that. He doesn't give Franny the same trouble," Kael admitted. "Of course, he has Legion to keep him company at the Royal Palace."

"It's hard to believe you're a Teyrn – I mean, the Teyrn of Denerim. I heard whispers that your father was going to bypass Fergus and give you the Teynir of Highever. But I suppose your brother will get it now."

Kael just blinked. "I never heard those rumors."

He chuckled. "You wouldn't have, your mind was occupied with….prettier thoughts," Gilmore teased.

"They still are," he admitted with grin. "That's Nan," he said with a shake of his head. They could hear her all the way down the walkway. He inhaled a breath and squared his shoulders. It was hard not to feel like a little boy again around Nan."Let's do this." He opened the door and stepped into the kitchen.

"Get that bloody mutt out of the larder!" Nan demanded with a sharp whip of her hand.

The elven maid took a step back. "But, mistress! He won't let us near!"

"So help me, if I can't get into that larder, I will skin both of you useless elves, I swear it!"

"Nan!" Kael rebuked firmly, glad that his wife was not here to hear her talk to the hired staff that way.

Gilmore looked over at Kael, surprised that he had raised his voice to Nan. ""Err…calm down, good woman. We've come to help…." He said gently.

Nan spun around. "You! And _you_! Your bloody mongrel keeps getting into my larder! That beast should be put down!"

"Nan, I love you – but shut the hell up."

Her lips tightened and she cast her eyes down. Sometimes, it was hard to remember he wasn't a little boy anymore; he was a Teyrn and no one to be trifled with, even by the likes of his old nanny. "Just get him gone, your Lordship. I've enough to worry about with the castle full of hungry soldiers." She turned back towards the elves that hadn't moved. "You two! Stop standing there like id…statues. Get out of the way!"

Kael shook his head, she'd always been a prickly one and they'd lost more than one hired hand because of her tongue. He opened the larder and stepped in with Gilmore right behind him. "Taltos, what are you doing?" he asked the mabari who was sniffing along the floor and then started barking at the burlap sacks.

"I'm not cleaning up that mess," Gilmore stated, seeing the shambles of the larder. "How did he even get in here?"

Taltos turned around, looked up at them, wagged his butt and barked. He bounced up and down and barked again.

"What are you trying to tell me, boy?" That was when they heard the scratching a moment before large rats, nearly the size of cats, scuttled into view to protect their food source. "Bloody hell, I didn't even bring my sword," Kael grumbled. He pulled the daggers from his waist, a habit he'd gotten into because of his wife. He was thankful for that now. He tossed the daggers, skewering two of the fat rats, twirled, grabbed the daggers and threw them again.

By the time the rats were dead, it had looked like a warzone in the larder.

Gilmore returned his long sword to its sheath."Giant rats? It's like the start of every bad adventure tale my grandfather used to tell. Your hound must have chased them in through their holes. Looks like he wasn't raiding the larder after all. Those rats were from the Korcari Wilds. Best not tell Nan about them, it might upset her," Gilmore told him.

He shrugged. "I can hardly hide the bodies. She will be seeing them soon enough," he pointed out.

"Lor always amazed me with her fighting style. You've come a long way over the years. I'd never be able to do what you just did with those daggers." He shook his head in awe. "I'd better get back to my duties. I'm to prepare for the arrival of more of the Arl's men. See you soon," he glanced at the door, "your Lordship."

"Oh hush, we know each other too well for that nonsense, Gilmore."

Gilmore chuckled. "Nonsense for you, but I value my post. Unless…the grey warden that's here…I heard he might be considering me, is that true?"

He nodded. "That's what he said."

"Me…grey warden. That would be a dream come true. Don't get me wrong, I love working for the Teyrn…but a grey warden…." He blinked. "Come to think of it, he should consider you. You are one of the best warriors I know. It would be foolish to pass you by."

Being a grey warden was the last thing in Thedas he wanted to be. "And I would be foolish to accept. Married…Teyrn of Denerim…ring a bell? It's not a life I'm willing to leave behind. I'll leave the grey wardening to you, my friend. There's not a damned thing that would make me walk away from my wife."

Gilmore nodded. "If I had a wife like yours, I wouldn't walk away either." He cleared his throat. "Are we still on for cards tomorrow night?"

He slapped Gilmore on the back. "Wouldn't miss it, my friend." As they exited the larder he inclined his head towards Gilmore, who hurried from the kitchen before Nan gave another tongue lashing.

"There he is, as brazen as you please, licking his chops after helping himself to the roast, no doubt," Nan shot a disapproving glare at the dog.

"Not so, Nan. But you'll need to send someone in to clean up the - er…mess. It seems we had a large rat invasion. That is why Taltos was in the larder."

Nan crossed her arms over her chest. "Hmff…that dog probably led the rats into the larder to begin with!"

Taltos tilted his head and whined.

"Don't you give me those sad eyes – I'm immune to your…charm," she scolded the dog.

He tilted his head and whined again.

"Ugh…fine. Here's some pork bits. Don't say Nan never gives you anything. Bloody dog." She looked up Kael. "Thank you, your Lordship. Now we can get back to work," she told him in a soft, pleased voice.

He grinned as he left the kitchen with Taltos at his side. That was Nan. She was either sweet as pie or sour as lemons.

He ran into his mother and Lady Landra in the Atrium near the family quarters. "Good day, mother," he said as he leaned down to kiss her forehead.

"Ah, here is my beautiful boy. I assume the situation in the kitchen has been handled?"

"Of course," he said with a grin. "Nan's head exploded and my hound ate the kitchen staff, but never you fear – unwelcome guests were evicted and order has been restored," he teased.

"Well, at least one of us would have had a decent dinner," she quipped. "Darling, you remember Lady Landra? Bann Loren's wife?"

"We last met at your mother's spring salon, your Lordship" Landra reminded him.

"Of course," he inclined his head. "It is a pleasure to see you again."

"Your lovely wife was so gracious to me, even though I spent half the salon flirting with you," Landra admitted, her cheeks warming a bit.

He bowed slightly. "It was thoughtful of you to build my confidence in such a manner."

Landra laughed. "Oh hush, you are as handsome as sin, as you are well aware. Iona, my lady's maid, is rather infatuated with you as well."

"Mistress!" Iona complained, wishing the ground would swallow her up about now.

Landra shook her head. "The lad's got eyes, Iona. He could hardly miss your batting eyelashes. Your Lordship, you remember my son, Dairren? I believe you two sparred in the last tourney."

Kael nodded. "Of course, and I believe we had a game of chess at the spring salon."

"By which you thoroughly trounced me – in both," Dairren admitted.

"Nonsense, it was kind of you to allow me to win," Kael replied gently. In no way had Dairren allowed him to win, but he was secure enough in his abilities that it did not bother him to say as much.

"You are far too gracious, my lord." Dairren remarked, somewhat mollified. He hadn't let the lord win, but lip service or not, he would take the ego boost.

"You know, I'd hoped to see Dairren and Starlynn wed, but she has a good match in Kyrian Wulff. You were lucky enough to find suitable matches for all of your children. Now, if only I could do the same," Landra lamented.

"Mother!" Dairren exclaimed with embarrassment.

"My children made their own matches, Landra, and we love Lorianna and Kyrian as our own," Eleanor proclaimed with pride.

Landra nodded. "I will seek my rest for now, Eleanor. I feel a headache coming on," she mentioned as she rubbed her forehead. "I will see you at supper. It was a pleasure to see you again, your Lordship."

"Very good, mother. I will escort you to your room and then Iona and I will retire to the study for now," Dairren informed them. "It was good to see you again, your Lordship…your Ladyship," he said with a small bow, before taking his leave to follow his mother.

Eleanor ran her fingertips down her son's cheek. "I know it's been difficult for you with Lor away, but I am grateful for your willingness to help us out."

"I – we will always help out, whenever possible. Just because we live elsewhere, that doesn't mean this isn't still our home," he reminded her.

"Thank you, darling. I suggest you say your goodbyes to your brother before he leaves. If he's not with his men, he's probably with Oriana."

He nodded. "I was on my way to do just that."

"I love you, dear boy. You know that, don't you?"

He chuckled. "You have never once let me forget that. I love you too." He pulled her in for a brief hug and continued past her towards the family quarters. As suspected, Fergus was with Oriana and Orin.

-BREAK ONE-

"Is there really going to be a war, papa? Will you bring me back a sward?" Oren asked hopefully.

Fergus rubbed the top of his son's head. "That's _sword_ , Oren. And I will bring you back the mightiest sword I can find. I'll be back before you know it."

"I wish victory was, indeed, so certain. My heart is disquiet…" Oriana could not keep the worry from her voice.

Fergus turned when he heard someone enter their chambers. "Ah…and here's my little brother to see me off. Now dry your eyes, love, and wish me well."

Kael smirked. "Should I wait outside?" he teased.

"Stay…I'd like to say farewell," Fergus declared.

"Do you really think the war will be over quickly?" he asked his brother.

"Word from the south says that the battles have gone well. They're not even sure this is a blight," Fergus admitted.

She bit her lip. "Oh, husband…I pray that is so and you will return to us soon."

"I'll see for myself soon enough. Pray for me, love, and I'll be back within a month or two," he assured her. After everything he'd heard, he was not too concerned. Though, he hoped after the long march he'd at least get to kill some darkspawn. He wanted to bring home stories as well as a sword for his son. He grinned at his little brother. "It is too bad that you cannot come with me. I could have used you at my side."

Kael chuckled. "Don't let my wife hear you say that."

Fergus blinked. "Right you are. Far better for you to remain here. I do not care to step on her toes."

"Just…be careful – I don't need two teyrnirs," he teased. "Honestly…I'll miss you, big brother," Kael confessed. He probably didn't tell his brother he loved him often enough – it was an understood thing between them.

He grinned. "We certainly can't have that – you're ego may cease to fit through the door. And I'll be fine. In fact, I'll be jealous of you. I will be traipsing through the frozen southern rain while you are warm and comfortable up here."

She pursed her lips. "I am positively thrilled that you will be so miserable, husband."

He raised his wife's hand to his lips. "Darling, wife, how could I be anything but miserable when I am so far away from your witty charm and beauty?"

"Oh – did you hear about the grey warden?" he asked his big brother curiously.

Oren's eyes opened wide with excitement. "Oh, really? Was he riding a griffon?"

"Hush, love. You know griffons only exist in stories now," Oriana gently rebuked her son.

Fergus nodded. "I did hear that. Did he say why he's come?"

"He's considering recruiting Gilmore…Ser Gilmore," he informed him.

He grinned. "Good for him! If I were a grey warden, though, I'd have my eye on you – not that Lorianna would ever allow it."

Kael shook his head in negation. "I would not even consider it unless my wife was at my side. And before I forget – father wanted me to tell you that you were to move out forthwith, he will leave tomorrow."

He grunted. "Then the Arl's men are delayed. You would think his men were all walking backwards," he said with a shake of his head. Well, I'd better get underway," he said, ruffling his son's hair. "So many darkspawn to behead, so little time! Off we go, then. I'll see you soon, my love." He looked up at the sound of footsteps to see their parents entering his chambers.

"I hope, dear boy, that you planned on waiting for us before taking your leave?" His father asked gruffly.

Eleanor lifted her hand and placed it on her elder son's cheek. "Be well, my son. I will pray for your safety every day you are gone."

"I'm sure Fergus will be fine, mother. I've taught him well how to get out of worse scrapes than this," Kael teased.

"I keep telling you, no darkspawn will ever best me," he said with a quick fist bump over his heart. "And Kael has the right of it mother, there's no scrape too deep for me to crawl out of. I'll be fine," he assured her.

Oriana bowed her head. "Maker sustain and preserve us all. Watch over our sons, husbands, and fathers and bring them safely back to us."

"And bring us some ale and wenches while you're at it," Fergus added. "Err…for the men, of course," he amended quickly. He loved his wife, she was comely, had breeding and was well mannered, but she had little bend to her. At times, he just needed a break and the darkspawn had obliged – though he would have preferred a gentler diversion….as he'd had at his visits to the Royal Palace with Anora. Anora had been much like his wife before she became friends with Lorianna. Now, she was the kind of woman that drew him in. Strong and gloriously proper when need, but able to relax and let her hair down when she had no business to attend to. And in bed….she was a saucy little minx who knew just want she wanted. He pushed away the thoughts he should not be having. He was heading to war and leaving his family behind.

"Fergus! You would say this in front of your mother?" Oriana scolded.

He grinned. His mother had heard far worse.

"What's a wench? Is that what you pull on to get the bucket out of the well?" Oren asked curiously.

Bryce chuckled. "A wench is a woman that pours the ale in a tavern, Oren. Or…a woman who drinks a lot of ale."

Starlynn stepped into the room, glad to find everyone together. "Or a woman who lifts her skirt-"

"Bryce! Starlynn!" Eleanor reprimanded. "Maker's breath, I swear it's like living with a pack of small boys."

Fergus chuckled. "I'll miss you, mother dear." He turned to look at his younger brother. "You'll take care of her, brother, won't you?"

"And what of me, Fergus? I'm perfectly capable of taking care of mother," Starlynn pointed out, a frown tugging at her lips. Not that her mother needed protecting. She was the Seawolf

Fergus winked at his baby sister. "Of that, there is no doubt. You always were a little spit-fire. Sometimes, it's hard to remember you aren't my baby sister anymore," he admitted. She was a married woman now.

"Mother can take care of herself, she always has. You need protection more than she does," Kael teased.

"I agree," Oriana said with a firm nod. "If you get yourself hurt, I will _never_ forgive you!"

Fergus grinned. "Now _that_ is a good incentive, wouldn't you say?"

"Enough…enough," Bryce said with a laugh. "Fergus needs to get ready to move out, we can delay him no longer, I fear."

"Mama says you're going to be watching over us while papa is gone. Is that true, Uncle?" Oren asked.

"That's true, little one. Your Aunt Starlynn and I will be here any time you need us," he assured his nephew.

"What if the castle is attacked – will there be dragons?" he asked with a gleam in his eyes.

Oriana blinked. "Dragons eat people, Oren. Don't wish one down upon us."

"Are you going to teach me how to use a sword, Uncle? Then I can fight evil with it!"

Kael chuckled. "Perhaps, we will start with a dagger; it is the perfect sized sword for you."

Oren swung his arm in mock battle. "Take that, dire bunny! All darkspawn fear my sword of truthiness!"

"Err….truthiness?" Starlynn inquired.

Oriana grinned. "We're teaching him about honesty."

Kael ruffled his nephew's hair. "Then I shall teach you how to use your sword of truthiness, young lad."

Oriana released a slow breath. "Fergus, sometimes your family causes me such pain."

"You worry too much, my love. Both of us were being trained at his age – or at least Lorianna thought it her duty to teach us," Fergus said with laugh. "She believed that every woman and child should know how to defend themselves and I agree. I wish you'd have taken her up on her training," he pointed out.

She arched a brow. "Then what good would you men be?"

"I can think of a thing or two," Fergus exclaimed with a waggle of his brows.

"Fergus!" Oriana scolded.

He grinned at his wife and then looked from one sibling to the other. "I'll miss you little brother and baby sister. Take care of everyone while I'm away and…be here when I get back."

"Just don't dally too long," Kael teased with a wink as he headed out the door. "We have a cold beds and spouses waiting to warm us back up."

While his brother armored up, he went to the stable and saddled, Taibor, his smoky grey gelding with a silky black main and tail and a charmingly thick blaze that nearly spanned the width between his eyes. He mounted and moved out of the stables. Whispers from the column of soldiers stilled as he passed by and silenced all together when his brother came out of the keep to lead them on the long march.

He followed slowly near his brother's side and pulled up at the keep's double gates. He nodded to his brother as Fergus passed through and stayed until the last of the soldiers passed by and the gates were closed. He nudged Taibor to a run and did a brief patrol of their grounds before he returned to the stable. He handed his gelding over to a stable hand and retired to his room to write a quick letter to his wife. He sealed the letter with wax and pressed his signet ring into it. With a nod of satisfaction he located one of the guards left behind and charged him with getting the missive to his wife in Denerim. She should have it in a couple of days, if he rode at a decent clip.

Before turning in he stopped at the library to find a book to read. To his surprise, that was where he found Duncan. "Good eve, Ducan. Do you need assistance finding something to read?"

He studied the young Teyrn that had joined him. There was a sense of familiarity about him and now that he saw him again he knew why. There was a striking resemblance between the Teyrn and his old friend, King Maric - too much so to just put aside as coincidence. "It is generous of you to ask, your Lordship." Duncan rubbed his beard. "Your family has a fine library." Only the wealthy, to include the Chantry, had the wherewithal to purchase leather bound books. Most were lucky to even have one. The Wardens, too, had an impressive collection of tomes at their headquarters in Weisshaupt, most of which were stolen from the wealthy.

Kael inclined his head. "Thank you. Much of what you see was due to my grandfather. He purchased any book he could find, even if they were banned by the chantry." He chuckled. "Not that I would ever read any such book."

He had little doubt the young man had read those books. "I did not learn to read until after I joined the Grey Wardens. I t has been some time since I've had the chance to relax with a book. If I may be so bold – I know your father had little interest in you joining the order, but I would like to know where you stand on the matter."

And there it was. He was wondering if Duncan would get around to asking him. "While I do appreciate the honor, I cannot oblige you. Do not get me wrong, if this is a blight, I will do what I can to protect those I love and my country, but I cannot and will not walk away from my life, I have too many responsibilities."

He respected the young Teyrn's sentiment, but still he had to push. "You do realize that you will have no life if the blight overwhelms us? Only the Grey Wardens can truly kill an archdemon and there are far too few in us Ferelden. That is why I've dispatched several Wardens to locate new recruits to fill our ranks."

He shook his head. "Be that as it may, you have not met wife, Lorianna. She is a force of nature. My heart and soul have always belonged to her. I will not walk away from her. If the need arises, you can have my sword, Duncan, but not my life."

"I will respect your wishes," Duncan said with an incline of his head. He had been told of Kael's prowess in battle, that he had the wisdom and skill of an experienced man twice his age. "You were always my first choice, but I will speak to Ser Gilmore and your sister tomorrow. I came here for a recruit and I will not leave without one."

He squared his shoulders. That was out of the question. "No, you cannot have her. My sister is married as well and she just found out she is with child. While she is a remarkable fighter, she is not a suitable candidate. You will have your man in Gilmore. He and I spoke of it earlier. He wishes to join your ranks, if you would have him. Lord Dairren, Bann Loren's son, has also spoken of his interest. I sparred with him in the last tourney. He is adequate enough in battle – though, as my father's second, he has not yet made a name for himself."

With the coming blight, the Wardens could not afford to turn away recruits, not when they numbered so few and many would fall to the coming blight. Duncan inclined his head. "Then it appears I have no choice. I will speak to them tomorrow. Your wife – she is a Wulff, unless I am mistaken?"

A soft smile played on his lips. "She is indeed…one of the many of Arl Wulff's offspring."

He nodded. "As I expected. Her name has reached my ear as well as several of his offspring. I considered going to the Western Hills, but time was a factor and my primary interest lay with you. I had not realized you were wed, at the time, nor that you had a Teynir. It was mere coincidence that you were even here when I arrived. Regardless, my journey here will not be in vain."

If the Warden was considering the Wulff children, he could certainly help with that. "If you choose to venture to Craighorn Keep, might I suggest Berchan? He is young, unwed, skilled in battle and does not have the same vices as his older brother, Wilhelm. He has also trained with my wife's mother since he was a child, so he has skills most warriors do not have. I have no doubts that he would willingly join your order. I strongly suggest you consider him worthy of your attention."

Duncan inclined his head. "Thank you, your Lordship. If time and circumstance allows, I will visit Craighorn Keep." He picked up the book he'd been looking at before the Teyrn joined him. "With your leave, I will return to my room."

"Of course, Duncan. Do not let me keep you up. Enjoy the book. That one used to be a favorite of mine. Until tomorrow, then." He inclined his head to the grizzled man and left the library to allow the man to have some space. He retired to his chambers with Taltos at his side.

His dad, Howe and his men would be leaving in the morning and his mother the morning after that. He couldn't even imagine how quiet the keep would be with nearly everyone gone. He grinned. Maybe Nan's yelling would fill the void. He pulled off his clothing and settled into bed. His hand reached over to rest on his wife's side of the bed. The nights were the hardest.

He blinked, realizing he must have fallen asleep, but for how long? He heard Taltos barking. That was what had woke him up. "Taltos!" he groaned. "I'm trying to sleep." He sat up. Growling at the door was not something his dog had ever done. Something was wrong. He slid out of bed and pulled on his clothing. His fingers flew over his armor as he buckled it on. He wore a light chainmail shirt and black, gold trimmed chainmail lined short-pants that went below mid thigh. He strapped on high black shin and knee guards with golden filigree, pulled a light, short, white vest tunic over his chainmail shirt with gold embroidered threading and blue trim. He slipped the small chest and back guard, shaped somewhat like a plump X over his head and buckled it into place. It basically covered his middle ribs, his heart to his collar bone. It was white, trimmed in royal blue and sported a golden emblem of his House in the middle. There was a small band of armor across his back; its sole purpose was to provide a place to hook his shield onto. He buckled his blue and white forearm, elbow and shoulder guard, which also sported his House's emblem, onto his left arm, which he often used for blocking. His right arm remained free of such encumbrance. He buckled on his belt, which his dagger and long sword hung from in their scabbards. Since the belt hugged his hips, the large blue and gold belt buckle acted somewhat like a codpiece. His gloves were half-gloves, leaving his fingers exposed from the second knuckle down. What he lost in safety he gained in dexterity.

He used to wear heavier armor and was nothing but a sword and shield man. But he when he learned his wife's fighting techniques; he needed to be able to move, to be agile and so chose to go with a lighter armor. He rarely used his shield now, unless to block a blow from a greatsword.

When his door burst open, it took him but a blink to realize it was not one of his own. He whipped his dagger out of its sheath and threw it. The invader dropped to his knees and pulled the dagger from his throat. Why did they always do that? He shrugged; it only hastened the man's death. He grabbed his dagger and stepped over the body and swung the dagger out, tearing through the throat of the man that rushed him. He flipped the dagger over in his hand and threw it towards the archer as he withdrew his sword. Taltos rushed the archer. He flowed back from the shield bash that might have knocked him down and stepped into the man, knocking his sword arm out of the way and brought his knee guard straight up into the man's testicles. When he leaned forward he brought his knee up again, slamming it into the bottom of his chin. The man's teeth clacked together harshly as his head was flung backwards by the blow. His sword arched out and the man's head slid from his shoulders and toppled to the floor. A few seconds later his legs gave out and his body crumpled.

Sword in hand, he looked around, but there were no more men in the family quarters. He walked over to the downed archer and picked the dagger up from the floor, it had slipped from the archer's hand after he pulled it out of his chest. He wiped it on the archer's clothing and swung his head swung around, his dagger ready to throw, when he heard a door open. He lowered the dagger when he saw his mother come rushing from her room. A short, harsh breath slipped from his lips. "You're okay. Where's father?"

She shook her head. "I don't know; he hasn't come to bed yet. I was hoping he was with you."

Where was his father? "Damn it. What the hell is going on? Those are Howe's men that attacked us! Why would he betray us like that? Goddamned, underhanded, traitorous, oily ass-weasel!"

"Kael!" Eleanor chastised and bit back a laugh that was highly inappropriate considering the circumstances.

He shook his head. "I should have listened to my wife. The first time she met Rendon she told me he was an oily ass-weasel and not to be trusted. But he'd been a close friend of father's for years. I should have fucking listened!" His brows drew together. "We need to check on Oriana and Oren. And where the hell is Star?"

"Andraste's mercy!" She hurried over to Fergus's door and flung it open. She had to lock her knees to prevent them from going out. Oriana and Oren were crumpled on the floor, their throats slit. "Not little Oren, too. Poor Fergus, I can't bare it." An icy cold settled in her heart. "I will gut that heartless bastard and string him up by his entrails!"

"And I'll be there to dance in his blood. Come on, let's find the others," he said gently.

-BREAK TWO-

The opened the door that led to Star's and Oren's rooms and found Star and Dairren battling three men, four others dead on the floor. While his mother shot arrows, he joined into the fray.

When the last man fell, Starlynn took hold of her mother's arm. "You do not want to go in these rooms. There is nothing there you wish to see." An extra bed had been pulled into each of the rooms for Iona and Dairren, since the guest wing had been filled with soldiers and the few men Howe had with him, before the rest of his men arrived. Oriana had Oren sleep with her since Fergus had left. She had been sharing her room with Oren and Dairren. Oren had given his room up to Landra and Iona and had been sleeping in her bed with her. Her nephew's presence had at least kept tongues from wagging about her and Dairren.

But, tonight, with Oren in his mother's room Dairren had asked if she would stay with her mother so that he and Iona could have some time together. As long as they used the extra bed and not hers, she had been fine with it.

It was the beating on the door to that led to their rooms that woke her up. Something was terribly wrong. She'd yelled at Landra to lock the bed chamber door and darted over to her room to throw her armor on. Iona and Dairren were already putting on their clothing. It might have been an awkward moment for all of them if the circumstances had been less dire.

Once she had her light armor on, she tossed Dairren a longsword because his armor and weapons were down in the armory. The longsword and the two daggers she sheathed at her hips had been specially designed for her. They were imbued with runes that allowed her to focus her magic through them in the same manner she would a staff. But as an apostate, her parents had wanted to make sure she had a weapon that wouldn't scream out 'look at me, I'm a mage'.

They'd hired a lady-in-waiting, a dalish mage, that taught her how to control and use her magic. But her mother, and later Lor, had taught her how to fight with weapons, so she didn't have to rely heavily on magic. It did little good to hide the fact that she was a mage if she used magic at every turn.

"No...no...no…poor Landra. I'm sorry, Dairren. If only she hadn't come." She shook her head. "We should have left sooner." She blinked when she noticed he was fighting in nothing but silk. "That won't do. I'll keep you safe, I owe that much to her. Hurry, follow me. Bryce has an extra set of armor in our room."

Dairren had been going to strip the armor off one of the fallen men, but he was grateful for the Teyrna's offer. He didn't much care for the thought of being killed by friendly fire and a case of mistaken identity. He hurried after her. Once in her room she helped him buckle on the armor and handed him a shield and longsword. With a nod of understanding, he handed the inscribed longsword back to Star. Star's longsword had been too light in his hand. A fine blade, but better suited for someone smaller. "Thank you, your Ladyship."

Eleanor patted his cheek. "Do not thank me for this. You have lost far more than I have given." She cleared her throat. "We need to find Bryce and look for survivors."

Sounds of battle could be heard as they left the family quarters. The sounds of clashing swords seemed to be coming from everywhere, echoing off the stone walls. The coppery sent of blood and smoke was enough to make their stomachs roll. "Howe's men must be everywhere. Where would – the front gates. That's where your father must be! Wait! The treasury. There are things….I don't want the family sword falling into Howe's hand."

Kael nodded. "Fine, mother. Dairren and I will go to the front gates; you and Star head for the treasury."

Eleanor gripped her son's arm in alarm. "No! We must stay together. I will not risk anything happening to any of you. I cannot bear it."

He did not yet know the fate of his father, but so many had already died. Innocent people, some, like Iona having no bearing on their family. It was apparent that Rendon Howe intended to leave no witnesses behind to tell of what they witnessed. "Then let's get to the treasury and then find father."

She exhaled a breath of relief. "If Howe's men are inside, they must already control the castle. We must use the servant's entry in the larder to escape."

He blinked. "I will see you all safely from the castle, but I intend to confront Howe. I will not let him get away with what he's done!"

Her grey brows drew together in frustration. "You cannot hope to face the full force of Howe's army by yourself. There are simply not enough guards left behind to confront him right now – there may not even be any left alive. No, son. First you must escape…survive…then bring vengeance down upon the traitor when you have the advantage."

"I know!"he growled. "It is just hard to walk away and leave that oily ass-weasel here."

"Mom is right, Kael. We'll come back and make him pay. But we can only do that if we survive the night," Starlynn pointed out.

"Let's just go," he grumbled. He knew they were right, but when fury burned inside him it was often hard to think logically.

They followed the stone walkway past the atrium when a servant came running from the adjoining hall. "The castle has fallen! I'm getting out of here!" he cried out in fear.

While he would have preferred for everyone to fight for their home, the servant was clearly frightened and someone needed to escape the keep and seek assistance. "Then get to the servant's entrance, escape the castle and seek help if you can."

"Thank you, your Lordship." He turned to look back the way they'd come. "Here – here they come!" he yelled before he took off running.

Kael jogged down to where the servant had been standing. "Star, mom, Taltos, take out the four men on the left. Dairren and I will handle the three on the right." He withdrew his sword and dagger and charged the men on his right. He did not even consider that they might have taken issue with him taking over, but he'd become used to giving commands after he'd become Teyrn of Denerim.

When they'd dispatched their three they turned to help the women, but by the time they arrived the last man had fallen. Star opened the dining hall door and burst into the room. They were heading away from the vault now, but they could not allow one of their men to die if they could save them. In the end, it had been a good call. They had been able to save two of their guards, who had been overwhelmed by Howe's men.

As they left the dining hall more of Howe's men were charging for them, having heard the sounds of battle. When the men were dispatched he turned back to look towards the hall that would lead to the kitchen, but it had been barricaded and set afire. They would have to wait to check on Nan. He turned and headed towards the vault. He still needed to get the family sword. The hall was clear of enemy all the way to the treasury vault. Three of their own soldiers lie dead in the guard post in front of the treasury.

Eleanor pulled the key out of her pocket and pressed it into her son's hand. "I want you to use the family sword to slice the throat of…that oily ass-weasel."

"With pleasure," he said with a harsh grin. He opened the treasury door.

"The family sword is in that chest," she said pointing to the trunk straight to the back.

He withdrew the sword, loosened his belt and slid the scabbard onto his belt. He handed the family shield to his sister, since he and Dairen had no room on their backs for it. As she hooked it onto a leather strap at the back of her light armor he pulled out a smaller locked box. "Do you know what's in here mother? I assume it is of some import."

"It is." She knelt down next to him, took it from his hand and used another key to open it up. She lifted the lid. There was but a single item in the gem adorned box. A folded, waxed missive bearing Maric's seal. She withdrew the parchment from the trunk. Her son had to survive and with him, this missive. "Protect this at all cost. This parchment was to be opened in the event of Maric's death. But your father and I agreed with Cailan. It was best to wait for Cailan's death for it to be opened. We cannot let this fall into Howe's hands. I'm entrusting this to _you_ now. Guard this, but do not open it until Cailan – Cailan returns to the Maker." She pressed the missive into his hand and folded his fingers over it.

Wanting to read it was like an itch he could not reach, but he would do as she asked. He wedged the missive under his armor in a velvet pocket on the underside of his chestpiece and rose. "Let's find father and get out of here."

They returned to the interior hall and hooked a right, he passed the main hall and went to the chapel to see if there were any survivors holed up there. There weren't, but he did find two of their soldiers fighting off four of Howe's. They assisted the soldiers and told them to hunt down survivors and lead them out of the castle through the servant's entrance. Their path was blocked again by burning debris. The only way left to the other side of the castle lay through the great hall, which he might possibly be filled with Howe's men. Regardless, there was no choice. He opened the door to the great hall and stepped through.

Some of their men had survived, even Gilmore – by the looks of it he was their last knight left standing. But they were also in a heavy fray and very outnumbered. He charged forward, a battle cry born of rage, echoed throughout the hall. His sword flashed and rivers of blood bathed his feet. When the last man fell, he took harsh breaths to dispel the anger that threatened to overwhelm him.

Gilmore turned to his men. "Go! Man the gates! Keep those bastards out as long as you can!" he then gave his attention to nobility that had come to their rescue. "Your Ladyship, your Lordship, my lady and my lord, you're all alive! I was certain Howe's men had gotten through."

He gave a slight shake of his head. "Gilmore, they did get through. We are the only survivors but for a handful of guards we assisted and one servant. Oriana, Oren, Landra, Iona and everyone else we've come across were murdered. Howe, that oily ass-weasel, is leaving no witnesses to tell of his treachery."

"Damn it! By the time I realized what was happening I took everything for me just to hold the gates. It won't keep the rest of his men out for long." He looked at Starlynn, he had an unspoken crush on her for the last few years. It was good to see her alive and he wished he did not have to be the bearer of bad news. "When I last saw your father, he'd been badly wounded. I urged him not to go, but he was determined to find you. He went towards the kitchen. I believe he thought to find you at the servant's exit in the larder."

Starlynn's heart squeezed in pain. "Thank you, Gilmore. Please…come with us."

Though she would never be his, he was touched that she cared. "Would that I could, my lady. But I must help my men hold the gates closed long enough for you to make your escape."

"Maker watch over you, Ser Gilmore," Eleanor said in appreciation of the young knight's courage.

"Maker watch over us all," Ser Gilmore replied before he joined his men and added his weight against the gate doors.

"Be well, my friend," Kael said with a bow to his old friend.

They ran out into the opposite hall and saw one of their guards besieged by two of Howe's. They hurried to his defense and then entered the laundry room. Two elven servants ran screaming out of the room. He would not have suggested they do that. They would only draw attention to themselves, but they were already gone so there was no one to hear his warning. He shrugged and quickened his pace to get to the servant's quarters. Howe's men were already there, two were pinning down a helpless elven women and crudely told her what they intended to do to her before killing her. It was the last words they ever spoke.

It was good that a few more servants had survived, but their efforts, by in large, had been in vain. If others survived there was little they could do for them. A knight and two soldiers could not bar the gates against the brunt of Howe's army for long. He'd only wished he could have found Howe. Had the bastard fled, so that it would appear that he'd had nothing to do with what happened here? "I don't think Howe's here. If I had to guess, I'd say he set his men on us and left so that he could be seen elsewhere during the slaughter. If there are no survivors, then there would be no one to implicate him. He thinks he will get away with this treasonous slaughter. He doesn't know me very well."

They found Nan dead near the larder door. "Nan was a disagreeable old bat, but I never wished this on her," he said with a sad shake of his head. He walked around her and opened the larder door.

Bryce gripped his side and let out a harsh breath. Relief filled him when his family walked into the larder. "Thank the Maker you survived."

"Bryce!" Eleanor exclaimed when she saw her husband on the floor in a pool of blood. She ran to him and dropped down next to him. "Maker's blood, what happened?"

He looked up into her beloved face. "Howe's men….found me first. Almost…did me in right there."

"Star – find a cloth. We need to bind father's wound and get him out of here," Kael told her.

"No," he said with a shake of his head. "I won't…I won't survive the standing, I think," he surmised in a strained voice.

Star returned with cloth she'd found in the prep room that was adjacent to the larder. She wasn't sure how clean it was, but that was a secondary concern at the moment. "I found this." She knelt down next to her father, slid it under him, tied it tight and lowered his tunic. She could not imagine the pain she'd just caused him, but she'd had little choice.

"I'll help you up and you can lean on me," Kael told his father.

A pained smile tugged at the older man's lips. "You are everything I could want in a son. You are strong willed, but even that cannot undo what has happened to me."

"No!"Eleanor exclaimed. "I don't want to hear that kind of talk. Ser Gilmore is holding the gate, but once Howe's men break through, they will find us. We must go!"

"Someone must reach Fergus and King Cailan…tell them what happened.

Kael closed his eyes. "I'll do it. And I'll make that oily ass-weasel pay in blood."

"Yes…" Bryce groaned. "Vengeance will be your mantle to bear."

"And mine," Starlynn stated coldly as she placed her hand over her father's wound to use what little healing magic she knew. Most of her studies were done in the offence art, her healing knowledge was limited.

Kael just stared at his sister. "No, Star. You are with child. I will see that you get back to Craighorn Keep – but I will see to Howe."

Bryce pushed her hand away. "Baby girl, do not use your strength up on me – it is too late for that and you have a babe to think about."

Eleanor leaned closer to her husband. "Bryce, no! We've made it this far. We will get you to a healer."

It was too late for him. "The castle is surrounded. I won't make it. I love you, Eleanor, but love…no matter its strength, cannot replace the blood I've lost."

-BREAK THREE-

Duncan heard Bryce's words as he approached the larder. He slid his sword back into its sheath. "I'm afraid the Teyrn is right. Howe's men have not yet discovered this exit, but they surround the castle. Getting past will be difficult.

Eleanor turned her head to look at the newcomer. "You are…Ducan, then? The Grey Warden?"

Duncan inclined his head. "Yes, your Ladyship. The teyrn and I tried to reach you sooner."

"My children and Dairren helped me get here, Maker be praised," she admitted. She knew how to handle herself in a battle, but she was not as young as she used to be and she was under no illusion that she'd have made it this far without them.

Duncan looked at the three young people. "I am not surprised."

Bryce looked up at Duncan. "You are under no obligation to me, but I beg you, take my wife and the children to safety. They need to get to Craighorn Keep."

"I will, your Lordship, but I must ask for something in return," Duncan informed him.

Bryce shook his head. "Duncan – do not ask this of me. My children are married, one is with child. Neither of them are suitable for your cause."

"I'm sorry, your Lordship. I came for a recruit and the darkspawn threat demands that I leave with one," Duncan told him firmly.

"I am willing to join your order," Dairren replied.

Duncan looked over at the young man. That the man survived proved he could handle himself, but he lacked the experience of battle and had earned little recognition. "You appear suitable enough, but you lack experience. I will accept you as a recruit, but I require someone with far more experience," he said as he turned back to Bryce.

Gilmore rushed into the room and bent over to catch his breath. "I had hoped to find that you were already gone. They have broken through the gates, we must leave. I managed to lose my tail, but they will find us soon enough."

"You would leave us here if I do not give you my son?" Bryce asked incredulously.

"I will do what I must to get the recruit I need," Duncan admitted. "I'm sorry, your Lordship. But I will enforce the right of conscription."

Gilmore straightened his shoulders, his awe for the Grey Warden dimming. He did not like hearing Duncan's cold and unfeeling words to a family who had lost almost everything. "Take me instead. I am Ser Gilmore and if you will have me, I will join your order." He knew his voice was clipped, but he was angered by the man's lack of empathy.

Duncan rose to look Ser Gilmore over. The man was his second choice. He would do. "Then it is done. I will take your wife and children to Craighorn Keep and then Dairren, Ser Gilmore and I will go to Ostegar and inform Fergus and the King about what happened here. I am aware that the King considers you family. He will not let this go unpunished." He may not have gotten the recruit that he wanted, but he now had two. And perhaps a third, if Berchan Wulff was willing. Since many do not survive the joining, three recruits were worth the cost of his chosen recruit.

Bryce looked at his son and daughter. "Howe thinks he will advance himself by taking the Teyrnir – make him regret ever crossing a Cousland. See that justice is done!"

"We must leave quickly," Duncan replied.

Eleanor closed her eyes briefly and then looked at her children. "Go with Duncan. I will not leave your father. My place is at his side - be it life, death or beyond. But know this – I will kill every bastard that comes through that door to buy you time to get away."

"I'm…so sorry that it has come to this, my love," Bryce told her weakly.

"We've had a good life, husband. I have no regrets." She looked up at her children. "Give…give Staria my love."

Bryce knew his time was close. "The missive – you gave to Kael?" At his wife's nod he turned to look at his children. "Go now, before it's too late. And know that we love you. No parents could be more proud of their children."

"I hear them coming, we must go," Duncan told them.

Kael looked down at his parents one last time and nodded. "Then follow me. There are escape tunnels underground, off the servant entrance, known only to the family. One of them leads to the stables. We will make far better time on horseback. Howe's men are not mounted, they cannot follow. And now that they have entered the keep, there will be less chance of them being near the stables."

He led them out the servant's entrance, used his ring to unlock the mechanism and lifted a buried hatch that blended into the ground. He climbed down the ladder and into the dark. When his sister joined him, she created a small orb of light for them to see by. He looked up. "Come, Taltos." The dog jumped and he caught the massive dog with only a stumble backwards. This was a one-way trip; they did not have to worry about getting him back up the ladder.

Duncan lowered the hatch as he descended the ladder. This was ingenious. This would likely take them well past most of Howe's men. It looked like the young Teryn could have made his escape without his help.

When the tunnel branched off it doubled in size. Rather than continuing straight, they turned left and followed the tunnel shaft for some distance before the floor and ceiling gradually began to rise. Kael moved ahead and pushed up on the double doors when Star put her orb of light out. It opened up at the rear of the stable where the hay was stored. The stable was dark, but for just enough moonlight to see by. "Hyet!" he told the horses quietly. They were trained to make little sound when they heard that word. He took Duncan, Dairren and Gilmore to the mounts they could use. His parents and Fergus' mounts were as swift as his and Star's.

They saddled their mounts and he handed Taibor's reins to his sister. She led them down the dirt ramp and into the tunnel shaft. Kael closed the doors and then hurried to the front to mount Taibor. His sister lighted another orb and he urged his horse into a walk. There was at least two feet of space above his head. Provided the horses did not rear, it was safe enough to mount. The horses were trained in the tunnels; there was little fear of them spooking. He nudged Taibor into a trot. He would not risk going any faster, because he did not want to risk them being heard.

When the tunnel began to rise again he dismounted. This time Duncan helped him lift the two large doors. Once they were clear of the door he and Duncan lowered them back into place. He mounted Taibor and turned to look back at his home. From this distance everything looked peaceful. He reined him around and started them on their journey to the Western Hills.

When Duncan pulled up beside him, he turned to look at the grizzled man. "I hope I did not offend you by turning down your offer. That was not my intention. I have too many responsibilities to leave it all behind forever. I will, however, go on to Ostagar with you and lend you my sword. I need to talk to my brother anyway. But when the battle is over I will return with my brother to Denerim . My wife will help us get the army we need to take Castle Cousland back – if Cailan's forces are too depleted."

That was more than he expected and he would not turn down another sword. "That is generous of you, your Lordship. It would be foolish for us to turn down any help. The darkspawn are everyone's problem."

"Indeed." He looked at the chestnut gelding, a twin to the one his mother had. It was odd seeing someone other than his father mounted on him. "Your mount belonged to my father. His name is Reager." He smiled. He got the name as a young colt; because he ran everywhere he went. He was 'Really eager', hence the name Reager."

Duncan chuckled. "Fitting, I'd wager."

"Dairren, your mount belonged to my mother. He is called Ranger. And Gilmore, that is Fergus' mount. He is called Chase, because he used to chase every animal smaller than himself – even the stable lads."

Starlynn nudged her horse up near her brothers. "Did I hear you correctly? You are going to Ostagar? Have you lost leave of your senses? Lor is going to kill you."

He cleared his throat. "She will not be pleased, but I would be of marginal use to her dead."

Starlynn shook her head and clicked her tongue. She would not want to be in his shoes when she caught up to him.

Light had yet dawned and they all knew travelling at night was risking injury to their mounts, but the need to put more distance between them and the soldiers drove them onward. They had over 300 miles to cover, no tents, no bedrolls, no blankets – except the horse blanket and the saddle to lean against. Most of them were not looking forward to making evening camp. Canteens had thankfully been tied to the saddles, but they were empty.

On average they stopped every couple of hours - the stop was dependant on water. They needed to make sure the horses were able to eat and drink on a regular basis. They stopped for an hour when the sun was overhead. They shared three hares, killing only as much as they could eat at one sitting, before hitting the trail again.

Come sunset they made camp. They pulled the saddles and blanket off their horses for a makeshift bedroll – if you could call it that. Duncan regaled them with ancient stories of the Grey Wardens around the campfire. One by one their eyes drifted closed.

It took a week and a half for them to reach Craighorn Keep, averaging about thirty-five miles a day. Travel was faster without a contingent and heavy armoring. A group of mounted guards rode out to meet them, Berchan and Kyrian in the lead.

"Come," Berhcan said. "We were expecting you." He turned his mount and led them back to the Keep, his men taking up rear guard behind the guests.

Duncan looked over at Kael in surprise. The Teyrn's nod left him far more questions than answers. Once in the keep they were led to the great hall, where the Arl was comforting the Arlessa. How could they have known what happened? Did they have an agent at the Cousland's that returned home after the fighting broke out?

Staria rushed to her daughter's side to hug her. She had felt Eleanor and Bryce's death and had been worried about the children. When she released her daughter, she pulled her son into a hug. They had survived whatever had happened. She may not have birthed Star and Kael, but she loved them all the same.

Drink and food was brought in and they adjourned to high table. "I felt Eleanor and Bryce's deaths. Tell us what happened," the Arlessa proclaimed after they were seated and served.

Kael explained about Howe's men arriving late, his father sending Fergus on with their soldiers, how Howe's men attacked the castle while it slept, after the Cousland army left, killing everyone without exception. "He was leaving no survivors. No one to speak of his treachery. He left after his men attacked so that he would be seen elsewhere during the assault to waylay suspicion. My father was one of the first to be attacked. He was run through, but the Grey Warden, Duncan," he said, inclining his head in the direction of the man in question, "was able to get him to a place of relative safety in the larder above the escape tunnels. At my father's request, Duncan went out in search of the rest of my family. Howe had not been expecting a Grey Warden to show up, but he too was a witness they could not let live."

"Why were you at the Couslands, Grey Warden?" Gallagher asked gruffly.

Duncan gave the Arl his attention. "Darkspawn have risen from the Deep Roads. We are in the midst of blight and I was seeking recruits."

Gallagher nodded. "We have been fighting them for weeks. At least, in this, we are united with the Chasind and Avvar. They have ceased all raids, and for the moment we are allying against a greater threat. So far, the darkspawn have not crossed the mountains. They have not attacked the Avvar, but we have close ties with this particular clan and they send warriors to help our fight against the darkspawn."

Starlynn looked at her father in surprise. "I am aware that Lor is close to their augur, Gavorn, and that Izot has a lover, but what do you mean by close ties?"

"Much has happened since you left, daughter," Gallagher told her. "The night you left your sister eloped with the chieftan's brother. Though, we neither knew who the avvar was nor that she had left willingly. We believed she'd been kidnapped. And since no formal intensions were claimed, we feared the worst. Berchan chose to lead a group of men to hunt down his sister and rescue her. While we missed his sword fighting darkspawn, I am proud of his choice. He was the only one of the men to return, due to the interference of a rival clan of avvar. But he had succeeded in finding your sister and bringing her back. Once the matter was straightened out, they were wed here and then Azur kidnapped her, with permission, and she is now residing with him. He is the cheiftan's brother and their clan is powerful. It is not the match I would have seen for her, but it is a good match. And thank the Maker, she is finally wed and will hopefully give us grandchildren soon, since my other children seem to be neglecting that obligation," he pointed out.

Starlynn blinked as she absorbed what she'd been told and then grinned at her father. "Not all of us have been neglecting our duty. I discovered I was with child not long after my arrival at Castle Cousland." Before the last word slipped from her lips she was being crushed in her husband's brawny arms.

Kael felt the heat build in his cheeks. "I apologize for our delay in that matter. Since my wife has no need to have children quite so young, we decided to wait a while, but children our definitely in our future, father, and likely a fair number of them."

Gallagher laughed. "That is what I like to hear, son!"

"We are dreadfully sorry about Bryce and Eleanor," Staria told Kael and Star gently. Eleanor had been her best friend. Her loss was devastating.

Starlynn wiped the lone tear that slipped down her cheek. "Father was injured; she refused to leave with us. She intended to take as many men down as she could to give us time to get away. She wanted to meet the Maker with her husband at her side."

Duncan remained respectfully silent during the exchange, but they would only be staying one night and he needed to know if Berchan would be willing to join the grey wardens. "My Lord, as you know, the darkspawn are a threat to all of Thedas. As you are aware, they have already invaded the south. I am impressed with Berchan's accomplishments and am formerly extending an offer to have him join the ranks of the Grey Wardens."

Berchan blinked in surprise and then burst out in laughter. He was naught but a spare here and his father had spares a plenty. If he became a grey warden, he would at least no longer be in his brother's shadow. "Father! I wish to join Duncan in his fight against the darkspawn. You have spares a plenty, thus have little need of me and it would be an honor to serve the Grey Wardens in our family's name."

Gallagher knew the grey warden could conscript his son, if need be. But his crafty son had put honor on the line and he'd been neatly backed into a corner. "As it is our honor and duty to serve Ferelden, I will grant you leave to join the Grey Warden ranks." He did not like losing his son to the secretive order, but he knew there were limited Wardens in Ferelden and the blight would consume them all without enough Wardens. Still, had his son not brought honor into play, he'd have refused Duncan's request.

Staria closed her eyes. She had not liked it when he'd been sent away to be squired and she did not like losing him to the Wardens. But Berchan had been clever and her husband's sense of pride would not allow him to forsake honor.

Duncan nodded. He could not have been more pleased. Three recruits in one trip. "Then I suggest you spend time with your family tonight, we will ride in the morning." After supper, he excused himself to allow the family their private time. A maid showed him to the room he'd been given and then chose to stay the night with him; her duties for the day were over. The lovely grey eyed brunette was a comely lass and it'd been too long since he'd enjoyed the company of a woman.

He woke the young woman up early for another round of pleasure before she had to begin her daily duties. He was sated and more relaxed than he'd been in quite some time. When they departed for Ostagar, he did not know he was leaving behind a piece of himself that would live on. He would not have thought it possible for him to father a child. It was very rare for a grey warden to father a child and even more so for one as far along in the taint as he was. He also could not have known that she would name their son after him, Duncan Grey or that she would choose to take the name as well, Ladina Grey, so that her son would not have to live with the stigma of being a bastard, only with the loss of his father before he was born. Ironically, had he known, he would have married her to give his son his name. He would not have helped in raising him, but he'd have done that much. No reason not to. If Ostagar didn't kill him, he would be driven to the calling before long.

It took them another week to reach Ostagar. They'd had to cross mountains, marshland and hilly terrain to reach the camp.

-BREAK FOUR-

Lorianna had felt her husband's anguish and her need to be with him eclipsed her duties. She searched the castle until she found Anora. She rushed into the study and took her friend's hand. "Something has happened. I can feel my husband's pain. I sense so much pain – it is overwhelming."

Anora hugged her. "Then you must go. Take your knights with you, we will have enough men to defend Denerim and we cannot know what you will be facing."

She shook her head. "The knights here – they do not know about me. It may be wiser to go alone."

Anora shot her a hard look. "I will not let you do that. You have more than earned the knights' love and respect. They will defend you with their lives as they know you would do for them, regardless of anything they might see."

After Cailan and Kael left, the women had a lot of time together. Lor had finally confessed to her about her family. It had taken a bit to fully understand what she was saying, but it had changed nothing about what she'd felt for the woman. Lor was her sister and she loved her. There was no one she was closer to, not even her father. She still regretted the way she'd acted towards her when they were children. She would always regret that. But they had quickly made up for lost time. Since their husband left, they'd spend time together late into the night, sipping wine, talking, strategizing, telling ridiculous stories and often falling asleep in each other's chambers, holding each other for comfort to keep the loneliness at bay. If suspicious tongues wagged – let them. They were sisters, despite the lack of blood between them.

Lorianna grinned. "They will not be able to keep up with Shadow."

"That much is true," Anora agreed, "but they will arrive in short order, should there be need of them." She pulled Lor in for a quick hug. "Now, shoo…take your leave – you have a husband to find. Just...stay safe. I couldn't bear to lose you."

"You won't," she said with a wink at Anora before she hurried from the chamber. She gathered six of the remaining knights, leaving only a handful of knights and the city and palace guards to protect Denerim in her absence. She told them they were riding for Castle Cousland and that she was riding ahead. She warned them to be prepared for anything, because she did not know what they would find at the castle. She knew the knights would not like her riding ahead; after all, it was their duty to protect her. But there was nothing they could say to the contrary. She was their Teyrna.

While they donned their armor, she saddled Shadow and with Legion at her side she moved out. Her dog would not be able to keep up with her for long, but he would have complained if she'd asked him to remain with the knights. Besides, he'd have to fall back and join them soon enough. Highever was 162 miles away. It would take her a day and a half to get there if she rode hard and took few breaks, breaks only long enough to feed and water Shadow. She would arrive in two evenings, if the weather held true.

She camped only when it became too dark to safely travel. Her dinner consisted of dried fruits, meat and nuts that she'd brought with her. She rose at the first signs of dawn to begin the second half of her journey. She hadn't gotten far when she saw familiar faces coming down the road. She pulled up when she reached the staff and the two armed guards that were with them.

"Your Ladyship," one of the guards one of the guards said as he greeted her with a bow. "We were on our way to Denerim to find you. Arl Howe's men attacked the castle at night fall, yester eve. They had no mercy; they slaughtered everyone they could find. We do not know who yet lives, but they were badly outnumbered and I fear…." He shook his head. "Ser Gilmore sent us to find you - to seek your aid. We found servants and some of their children that had managed to escape the castle. They claim that her Ladyship, your husband, my lady, Starlynn, and my lord, Dairren had saved them."

It was far more dire than anything she could have feared. She could sense her husband, he yet lived, but she could sense little else. "I will do what I can. Stick to the road. My knights and hound follow. Let them know what happened. Have one of you join the knights, the other continue on to the Royal Palace with the staff. Anora - the Queen needs to be told of this treachery. She will see to your needs."

"Your Ladyship, it will not be safe for you to go on to the castle alone. The castle has been overrun and is likely in the hands of Arl Howe's men by now. I beg that you not risk yourself," the guard implored her.

"Do not fear, kind sir. I do not intend to get caught." She gave the remainder of her food to them and continued her journey, this time with a heavy heart.

If the castle was, indeed, taken then she could enter through the secret passage. It is doubtful it would have even been recognized as a passage had it been found and a Cousland family ring was required to open the lock, which she'd had since she was a child. Though, a part of her wanted to storm the gates, so that all would know she was here - so that all would know fear as they fell before her. But she pushed that thought away; she did not wish to be twisted by fury and the need for revenge.

Along the way were a scattering of staff and a few more guards. She instructed the staff to continue on to the palace and the unwounded guards to join up with the knights when they caught up with them. Some of her people were badly wounded and being pulled on makeshift litters. The few she'd seen were small in number and only a fraction of the staff and guards the castle held, even with the army away.

She held no ire towards the guards that slipped away during the battle. It was better to live and fight another day then sacrifice your life when there was no hope of survival. She would clean the vermin from the castle from the inside while the knights and guards took it from the outside. With luck, she will have it mostly cleared out before the knights arrived. She could not risk losing any of them. She would need them to hold the keep if her husband was not there. What she knew for certain was that she could not allow any of Howe's men to escape and alert him they'd taken the castle back. Imprisonment or death, but not would be released unless they swore fealty to her and she could sense no deceit in them.

She kept at a distance and skirted the castle, heading for the escape shaft. When she reached it, she dismounted and held her ring to the lock mechanism. After the satisfying clank she used her power to lift he doors. She took Shadow's reins and guided him down the dirt ramp and into the tunnel shaft. The shaft was the widest here. It was designed as a place to gather before exiting the escape tunnels. There were hay mangers and water troughs on either side. She used her power to lower the doors and left Shadow here, where he could rest and eat. "hyet!" she told him to make sure he remained quiet. She held her hand out to him, palm up. "Tola!" She did not need him following her. She was uncertain where the commands originated, but at some point they'd been created so that there was no confusion on commands given to dogs verses commands given to horses.

She hurried down the tunnel. She passed the shoot off that led to the stables and continued down the narrowed shaft that led to the staff entrance in the larder. She climbed the ladder and frowned when she realized the passage had not been locked behind whoever had used it before her. Perhaps, they had no time or perhaps they were hoping others would follow. Since she had seen no signs of Howe's men, she knew they had not discovered the escape hatch.

When she stepped up into the staff entrance she could smell the scent of blood on the air. Thankfully, it was too soon to also smell the scent of decay. She was alone in the larder. She looked around and saw blood trails from bodies that had been dragged. She turned and caught sight of something written in blood next to one of the trails of blood. There were two words, using Cousland encryption, in mother Eleanor's handwriting. "Duncan…Ostagar." Then that is where she would go once the castle was freed. With luck she would fine either her husband or answers there.

She located the emergency sack, hidden behind sacks of grain, withdrew out a dark cloak and pulled the hood low over her face. She would stick to the shadows when she could. She wanted to delay raising the alarm as long as possible. She moved painstakingly slow, ready to freeze in place when need. Eyes were drawn to movement. By moving slow she could get far closer to her target than expected. If there were only one or two men she took them out at a distance, crushing their necks with her power and then using that same power to move their bodies into the shadows or empty rooms.

After leaving the larder and adjacent prep room she turned left into the kitchen and disposed of another who was going through their food stores. She slipped back down the hall and turned left. The right door to the great hall was closed and there was only one guard to take care of. She moved away from the great hall to the laundry at the opposite end of the hall, where some of their staff had also slept. She slit the throats of the sleeping men and turned left from the laundry to check out the servant's quarters. There were no candles lit, but she didn't need them. She could hear their slow breaths and felt the men's presence. Like the others, these men would never awaken from their dreams.

During her slow advancement she noticed the only bodies she found were the ones left be her. But there were signs of struggle and splashes of blood everywhere. In another day or two it would look like nothing had ever happened. She stepped out of the servant's quarters and headed back in the direction of the family quarters, hoping Arl Howe was arrogant enough to sleep in the Teyrn's chambers.

It would appear that most of the squatters in the castle were asleep – they did put in a long days work disposing of bodies, after all. She saw relatively few guards patrolling and they'd been easy to dispatch. The most in one area, awake, thus far had been the dining hall. When she stepped in she threw her two daggers, ignited her mother's lightsaber, threw it and had then used her powers to throw two heavy bricks at the remaining two men. She'd held her hand up to retrieve her lightsaber when she'd pulled it back to her. She'd used her powers to move the bodies to a shadowed corner of the room and then retrieved her daggers from the throats they were imbedded in. She'd wiped them off on the invader's leather armor before she'd sheathed them.

There had been a couple of men in the atrium and two more in the laundry, taking baths. Those were satisfying deaths. She used her powers to shove their heads below the water before they'd even known she was there. Their struggles had been in vain. She knew it was wrong, but she'd savored those struggles – knowing they were suffering like her family had suffered. When their struggles ceased, she crushed their necks. She slipped down the hall to kill anyone daring to sleep in her family's rooms. All the rooms had people sleeping in them except for Teyrn's chamber. None of them would ever rise again. She'd been disappointed at not finding Howe, especially after finding the thin trail of blood from a child's body…Oren's body. He had not even spared the children. As the guard had told her, he was leaving no witnesses behind.

By the time she exited the family quarters she could hear shouts and banging. She knew her men had reached the castle's main gates. Time for stealth was over. Most of the Arl's men would be drawn to the gates. She would sweep the rest of the keep and then head for the front gates to let her men in if they had not already forced the gates open.

She whipped off the dark cloak and ran down the hall, through the atrium and hung a right. She checked the library and study. No one was there; likely they'd already been drawn to the gates. She continued down the hall and swung right, four men were leaving the guard post room at a run. She sent a powerful blast at then sending them crashing against the wall at the end of the hall. Two of the men did not get back up.

She walked slowly towards the other two in case more men were to rush from the guard post.

As one of the men rose he held his hand out to her and mumbled something she couldn't quite make out. "I used to be a templar, mage and I have annulled your use of magic."

She shook her head and laughed. "That would be commendable and quick thinking, were I a mage." She held her hands out towards them and lifted them off their feet, her power gripping their throats. "But I am no mage. I am no demon and no spirit. I am nothing you have ever seen before, but I am the last thing you will ever see." She tightened her grip and their bones shattered. She dropped the lifeless bodies, without a qualm, and stepped into the guard post. She tested the treasury door, but it was locked tight. It would appear they'd been unable to breech the door.

She hurried back the way she came and swung left at the main hall. The left great hall door was also closed, but right now there were two more rooms she had left to check before tackling the great hall and the from parlor. The main guard room was empty. At the end of the hall she turned right into the chapel. Seven men were kneeling down in prayer. "No amount of praying will wipe your souls clean of the sins you have perpetrated. You killed innocent people in the name of greed! This is the King's family and you are traitors to the crown!"

The men through their swords to the side and held their hands up in surrender. "We were not a part of that! I swear this to you! We followed Howe. We came to fight the darkspawn, not…not for this. We wanted nothing to do with this. There were far too few of us to stand against the Arl's army. Please, your Ladyship…you must believe me."

She studied the man that was armored just like every other man she'd killed tonight. But she sensed no deceit in him or in any of them. "My men have arrived. If you want to atone, swear fealty to me and take up arms against the oily ass-weasel's men." The men chuckled but swore an oath to her and rose to stand with her. "Do not be afraid. I have a special heat sword that I'm going to use to brand your armor so that my men do not mistake you for the enemy." She ignited her golden lightsaber, burned away Howe's insignia and drew a leaf wreath on the armor's chestpiece. Once all the men had their new symbols she switched off her lightsaber. "Distract the men if you can, I'm going to see that the gates are opened."

'Yes, your Ladyship. That is something I can feel good about," he said with a bow. "I am Jenkins, guard captain – or was. I will give my life to do what is right."

There was a round of 'Here..here!' from the other six. "Hopefully, that will not be necessary. "May your Maker keep you safe." She turned and hurried out of the chapel and straight across through the left parlor door. She sent a wave of power toppling over the large group of me that were turning in their direction. She turned towards the doors, wrapped her power around the handles and yanked her hands back hard. The doors flew open, slamming against the walls, crushing the men that had been leaning against it to keep her men out. Her men poured in through the doors with a resounding battlecry on their lips. "Take them!" she yelled.

She had maybe twenty against what had to be fifty or sixty of Howe's men. Instead of actively engaging the enemy, she began using her power to rip the swords from their hands and send the blades hurtling towards the necks of their comrades in arms.

"Kill the mage!" A man in heavy armor bellowed.

She palmed her lightsaber and ignited it. "I'm no mage!" She sent out a powerful blast that knocked at least half the enemy onto their backsides, some were blasted against the stone walls, their helmets caving into their heads, never to rise again.

The fighting stopped for a breath as they turned to look at her and when the fighting resumed, many of Howe's men turned on their own, evening the odds. By the time the last of the aggressors was dispatched, those that had switched sides dropped their weapons and fell to their knees in surrender.

She accepted fealty from those that were sincere and had the others imprisoned for now. She turned to her knights. "Ser Wayne, I am leaving you in charge of Castle Cousland. I swept the rest of the castle before I made it to the front gates. You shouldn't find anyone…alive. See that the bodies are buried in a pit. Find where they've put my family and see they are given a proper funeral by pyre. These seven men," she said as she pointed to the group on her left, "had nothing to do with what happened here, they just did not have the numbers to rise up against their Arl. They will retain their ranks in my army and will receive full privileges. The others – will have to work their way up as new recruits. They will also be responsible for cleaning up what was done here. They have a lot to atone for." She paused for a moment. "What you saw here today – what I said was the truth. I'm not a mage. I have no connection to the fade and am no more likely to be possessed than you are. I am…gifted with telekinesis, which means I can move things with my mind. But you have nothing to fear from me. I am only dangerous to those with evil intent." That was the simplest explanation she could give. The truth would be unbelievable.

Wayne shook his head. "You owe us no explanation and I do not care what you are, your Ladyship. You earned our loyalty and devotion years ago. We saw nothing we will ever speak about," he assured her. "You are the best thing that has ever happened to Denerim. And if I may be so bold – I would suggest that you visit the alienage. There was an altercation just before we left that ended with Vaughan, the Arl of Denerim's son, being killed after he kidnapped some elven women who were getting married. The man was a sadistic viper, I do not begrudge his death, but others do. Peace needs to be made before things…get out of hand."

She had not known about Vaughan. Would that she had, she could have prevented what had happened to the elves. "Thank you for informing me. I had not heard. Send one of the guards to investigate for now and I will see to it upon my return. For now, I must find my husband and sister. I believe the answers will be found at Ostagar."

Wayne shook his head. "Your Ladyship, there is a war at Ostagar. Please allow me to accompany you. We cannot risk something happening to you."

She smiled gently. "Thank you, Ser Wayne, but you are needed here. If that oily ass-weasel discovers we've taken the castle back he is likely to send more men. We need every man we've got to hold the keep. Do not worry about me; I can take care of myself. And please ensure that the outer gates are fitted with a draw-bar to secure them in the event of another attack."

His lips tightened in displeasure but there was little he could do, except pray to the Maker that she made it back to them. "It will be done, your Ladyship," he said with a bow.

With Legion at her heels, she returned to the larder, exited the staff entrance, used her power to lower Legion to the ground and made sure the secret hatch was locked before descended down into the tunnel.

She locked up after exiting the escape tunnels and mounted. "It's going to be a long ride to Ostagar, Legion. I'm glad you're with me."

Legion nodded and barked his agreement.

They stayed on the roads, it was the longer route, but quicker. The shorter route would have them cutting through the small mountain range in the Bannorn. When they reached the Lake Calenhad docks she dismounted and went in for supplies. Unfortunately, their supply wagon was running late and they had nothing left to offer her. Though he suggested the circle might have supplies for her to purchase. Well, shit. She'd done her best to avoid templars and mages, because she feared they'd sense her power.

She went back outside and scanned the area. There was a man leaning against a post on the dock next to a boat. She told Legion to guard Shadow and walked over to talk to the man. "I was told the circle may have supplies I can purchase. Can you ferry me across?"

He looked up at pretty woman and smiled as he rose to his feet. "Name's Kester and that's my job. See'ns how you aren't a mage or templar, a round trip will cost you ten bits."

Since she didn't have any coppers she handed him a silver. "If you can take me across now, I'd appreciate it."

Kester grinned from ear to ear. "My Lady, for this amount I will ferry you as many times as you need. You have a friend in Kester." He helped her into his boat and poled her across to the circle's dock. "I'll wait here for you, my Lady."

"Thank you, Kester. I will return shortly." I hope. She squared her shoulders and hurried up the stairs. Two guards stepped in front of her. "You have no issue with me," she said with a wave of her hand. "I'm only seeking supplies."

"She's only seeking supplies," one guard told the other. "She's fine to pass."

"Thank you, kind sirs," she said with a soft smile after the guards opened the tower doors for her. She hated doing that, but she was on dangerous ground here. She needed to get in and out and draw as little attention as possible. She felt eyes on her and turned to look.

When the templar realized she'd caught him staring at her he approached her. "Is there someone you came to see, my Lady?" he asked courteously. He cast a quick look at Knight-Commander Greagoir who was also watching the woman.

"I'm Teyrna of Denerim, Lorianna Wulff-Cousland. I'm simply looking for your merchant. The tavern is out of supplies and suggest I come here," she told him with a smile. She'd hoped dropping her title and name would distract them.

"We have no merchants here, but we do have a quartermaster and if you've coins to spend, I'm sure he'll be more than pleased to trade with you, your Ladyship." He pointed the quartermaster out to her. "Please excuse me," he said with a smile.

She watched the templar out of the corner of her eye. He'd gone to talk to the older templar and then disappeared through a set of open double doors. She gave her attention back to the quartermaster. Most of what she purchased was dried meats and fruits, non-perishables that she could eat on the trip. She also bought out his supply of dog biscuits." When she turned to leave, the older templar blocked her path.

-BREAK FIVE-

"I am Knight-Commander Greagoir. It is not often that we are honored with the visit from a Teyrna. Would you like to have a tour of the circle tower?"

His tone had been kind, but there was something about him that set her on edge. She did not sense hostility from him, but she did sense unease or perhaps distrust. "It is kind of you to offer, Knight-Commander, but I did not come to cause unrest or disquiet."

He blinked. So she could sense what he was feeling. Then he was right about something being off with her. He could sense no magic in her, but he did feel her power and that concerned him. "Giving you a tour is no hardship, your Ladyship. So few nobility come to Kinloch Hold, it would be an honor to show you our circle and I'm sure First-Enchanter Irving would like the chance to meet you before you take your leave."

Something wasn't right, he was hiding something. But unlike mages, she did not fear templars. She had no magic, thus their powers had no effect on her. But was he leading her into an ambush or a trap? Could she handle taking on every mage and templar in the tower if it came to that? Even if she could, she had no desire to fight them, but she was curious to find out what he was up to. Decisions…decisions…She inclined her head to. "Then by all means, lead the way."

She followed him through the open double doors. When they closed behind them she came to a stop. "I came with you because I was curious what you were up to. Will you tell me what's going on now?"

He looked at her curiously. She had a far better grasp of things than he realize. "There is nothing amiss, your Ladyship. The doors are always closed after I enter the circle."

She folded her arms across her chest. "Do not lie to me, Greagoir. I know when someone is lying and I can sense the deceit in your words. I am not a mage and your powers are moot against me. If I choose to leave, there is nothing you can do to stop me. So give up the game and come clean with your motives."

"You sense a great deal," he acknowledged.

"More than you could ever understand. Will you play it straight with me now or must I force my way out of here?" she asked coldly.

She turned to see an old, grizzled mage approach her at a jog, followed by the templar she'd seen go through the double doors earlier.

Irving could feel the power radiating from the woman as he approached the pair. Despite the power, there seemed to be no magic in her. "Thank you, Greagoir." He turned to the Teyrna. "I'm sorry, your Ladyship, if we caused you any alarm. Geagoir knew I would wish to meet you and he is correct. I am First-enchanter Irving, or just Irving, if you will. Would you be willing to speak with me?" he asked in a gravelly voice.

She looked from Greagoir to Irving. She felt more comfortable around the old mage, though she couldn't put her finger on the reason why. Perhaps, it was simply because he did not view her with the same suspicion as Greagoir. "I will do so, Irving. All I ask is that you do not lie to me. I will know if you lie and I do not want that to be a barrier between us."

Irving studied her for a moment. There was something compelling about her. "I will accept your condition. Greagoir," he said as he turned to his old friend. "Thank you for bringing her to me. I will delay you from your duties no longer."

And so he was dismissed. No matter, there was no way out of this tower accept through the templars. "As you wish, Irving. You know where I will be."

She watched as the templar left through the double doors. Doors that remained open this time. "He's a pleasant fellow," she said sarcastically.

"He can be," Irving mumbled. "There is much I would discuss with you. Please come with me to my quarters, I do not want wish to be overheard. These are the apprentice quarters. All young mages stay here until they face their harrowing. Most are around nineteen when that occurs, but that is just an average. Some are ready sooner, others take longer. The Circle's library is also on the first floor. My chamber is on the third floor, lucky me. I curse whoever insisted the Circle to housed in a tower," he grumbled.

She chuckled. "I wouldn't want to live in a tower either. It just feels more restrictive," she said with a shudder. "Do you like living here? Not the tower so much as the circle. I cannot imagine living like a prisoner."

He looked over at her as they walked. "Some mages never stop seeing it as a prison. It is unfortunate that they cannot come to see it another way, because they will never find peace until they find acceptance."

"I assume, by your words, that you do not see the tower as a prison?"

He shook his head. "Perhaps, in my youth." He shrugged. "The tower to me is a sanctuary. I am left alone to practice my magic – to teach the young how to harness theirs." He studied her. "It can be a harsh world out there if you are different. Most people are intolerant to those that are different. Some people fear mages so much that they kill anyone they even think is a mage. Circle mages tend to be tolerated as if we were tamed pets. Apostates are rarely tolerated, thus many go to great lengths to hide what they are out of fear of persecution."

She could see the knowing look in his eyes. "Are we discussing me or you?" she inquired as she followed him the stairs to the second floor.

He chuckled. "We are discussing those that share the commonality of being born different." He did not really want to get into a discussion yet about anything personal until they were in the privacy of his own chambers. "Mages who have passed their harrowing live on the second floor. Most will spend the rest of their lives on this floor, only leaving the tower if their talents are requested elsewhere."

"What of the blight? Are their talents not needed to help defeat the darkspawn?" she asked curiously.

"The blight is as much a danger to us as to anyone. I've already sent a number of mages to Ostagar. I will not risk any more of our mages unless the Grey Wardens demand it," he admitted.

"Ostagar is where I'm going. If you wish me to bring anything to them, let me know," she told him.

He was surprised by her thoughtfulness. "Thank you for the generous offer. If you happen to see – no, no…we will discuss it in my chambers. I have an office on this floor, but we are likely to get interrupted a great many times. The stairway to the third floor is over here."

They followed the rounded hall until he stopped in front of a door to unlock it. He stood back until she entered and then locked the door behind them. "Please," he said as he motioned her towards one of the chairs near a hearth fire. Once she was seated he settled into a chair next to her. "I know that you are not a mage, but I also feel great power surrounding you. You are as different from the mundanes as we are, though I suspect you are more able to hide your differences."

She pursed her lips. She was oddly comfortable with him – if anything he felt like a grandfatherly figure, which was something she'd never experienced before. "You are right; I have no connection to your fade. I am no more likely to be possessed than any other mundane. In fact, I'm not ever sure that I _can_ be possessed. The simplest way to describe me is to say I'm telekinetic. I can move things with my mind."

He frowned. "I fear the truth is far more…complicated than that."

"It is," she agreed. "But if I told you anything more you would not believe it."

"Fair enough," he said with a nod. Though, he'd seen enough in his years to not discount anything out of hand. "But you also have a great sensory ability."

She nodded. "That is true. I cannot read people's minds, but I can sense their emotions and know when they are hiding something or lying. So, I guess that makes me a telekinetic lie detector," she replied with a grin. "But I suspect your reason for wishing to talk to me is far more …complicated than just finding out about what I am."

He laughed that she'd so neatly thrown his words back in his face. "You are right. The matter is decidedly…personal. I have – had an apprentice. Her name is Elvie. She has a close friend by the name of Jowan. Jowan was a little older than her and even though she'd passed her harrowing, he had still not had his. I didn't think he was ready. In fact, I had suspicions that he was dabbling in blood magic and had intended to have him made tranquil. She came to me one afternoon after having talked to him. Not to betray him, but for another, unrelated matter. But I knew they had talked and I pushed her. It shames me to admit, but I pushed her too hard. She is not the type of woman to lie, but she admitted that Jowan planned to destroy his phylactery – that is how templar track escaped mages, and escape from the tower. I told her I wanted her to go along with it. He was running away with a sister of the chantry, Lily. They were in love. That is forbidden and I was tired of the mages always getting the short end of the stick. I wanted the Lily exposed as much as I wanted him exposed – it was Lily that told Jowan he would be made tranquil. But I refused to take into account the kind of person Elvie was. When I asked her to betray her friend I…I lost her. I could see it in her eyes. That is when I realized the mistake I had made, but it was she that paid the price for my failing. She ran from me and I could not keep up with her, but I was not so far away that I did not see what happened. She turned into a bird and flew out a window. She might have gotten away, but a templar came around the corner in time to see her and he cast a spell to inhibit her magic. When I reached the window I saw her falling. I did what I could to slow her descent, but she lost consciousness when she landed. She was going to be killed or made tranquil for running away. It was my fault, but she would pay the ultimate price." He paused for a moment.

"One of the templars, Cullen, stood up for her. He's spent a lot of time with Elvie. He knew the kind of woman she was. She would never have betrayed the Circle unless the Circle betrayed her…and I had. He told them that he knew she'd return, that her heart had been shattered and she needed time to heal. But, everyone knew he was ah…infatuated with her, his words were discounted and he was dismissed."

"It was during this discussion of her death or tranquility that a Grey Warden stopped by the tower in search of recruits. Cullen did the only thing a man in love could do – he told the Warden about my talented apprentice that was facing death because the Circle had betrayed her trust. She was a highly gifted, highly intelligent mage – it was why I took her on as my apprentice even as a child of five that was brought in when her abilities manifested. She was a daughter to me and I failed her in the gravest way." He cleared his throat. "The Warden was highly impressed and wished to talk to me. I assured him every word was true and though Greagoir refused, Damon, the Warden, used the Right of Conscription to take her from the tower. They were going to Ostagar. Later, that same day, Jowan destroyed his phylactery and escaped with the use of blood magic. I do not think the boy was evil, but he was weak and I was not there for him as I should have been. With proper guidance all of this might have been avoided. Lily had not known Jowan was a blood mage, but she was punished all the same."

" I've told you all of this because I would ask two things of you. One, that if you see her…let her know that I am sorry I failed her…and that I love her. And two, I would like to assemble every mage in the tower, including myself, and for you to ask each of us a single question: Are you a blood mage? Give a slight nod for each that you sense deceit in." He ran a hand down his beard. "I know that is asking a lot, but if I can save even one mage from continuing down the path Jowan did…I owe that to them."

Yes, that was asking a lot, considering she was in a hurry. But he was asking for her help to try to save his students. That was not something she could turn away from. "Understand, my husband's family was murdered at the hands of Arl Howe. I have to find him. But I cannot, in good conscience, leave here without helping you save your students. The only downside I see to your request is that those students might do something stupid out of fear if I ask them if they're a blood mage. I think it would be better to ask them if they are okay about what happened with Jowan. I would get the same results without making it personal.

He smiled. "You are a clever woman, your Ladyship."

She nodded. "My mother trained me from a child to be a diplomat. It's what I do." She'd nearly forgotten about poor Kester. "Please do me a favor and send a meal down to Kester. He is waiting for me at the docks. Let him know it will be awhile."

"I can do that. What we are about to do…it is between us. We cannot risk the alerting the templars. If the templars find out, there is no saving the mages," he told her.

"How are we supposed to do this under the templars' noses?" she asked.

"We will interview the mages down in my office."

"Interview…if anyone asks you can tell them that I'm wanting to employ a mage at the Palace for healing purposes and I am very selective, to the point of being willing to wait for an apprentice to take their harrowing." She shrugged. "It is something if we draw notice."

She followed him back down to his office on the second floor. He motioned her to take a seat at his desk and then left to get the first group of mages. He let one in at a time and closed the door behind them. She asked what they felt about Jowan, they answered and then they were excuses. In this way they went through all of the apprentices all the way up to the senior enchanters. When the last one left the office he sat down across from her as all the others had. She then asked him.

"Blood mages are not only a danger to themselves and others, but they are also a danger to all mages. Blood mages create a great fear - and rightfully so, but that fear is transferred onto all mages, effecting the quality of life for all mages, that is why I have no tolerance of blood mages."

She smiled. There was no deceit in his answer. "You passed the test, Irving."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Four apprentices and one mage. I will try to give them the help they need. If only you had come sooner. I would have been nice to question the mages that were sent to Ostagar. He rose from his chair. "Regardless, you have done me a great boon and you can always call on me for anything, your Ladyship."

She rose and smiled at him. "Please, if it is just us, call me Lorianna or Lor."

"Then I insist you call me Irving," he chuckled.

She laughed at his joke as he escorted her back down to the entry commons. "It was a pleasure to get to know you, Irving."

"The pleasure was mine, your Ladyship. Come back to the Circle when you can and we can exchange more stories."

"Stories," she said with a laugh. "According to the author, Varric Tethras, I'm to wed the Kind of Ferelden. Doubt that would go over well with Kael or Anora. But, he intends to make that part of his story anyway. Fiction is the bane of all truths."

Irving tilted his head. "So this Varric knows the King is in love with you?"

She blinked. "How-"

Irving chuckled. "Stories, much like rumors, have wings, your Ladyship. And our King is not a subtle man."

Lorianna felt the heat sting her cheeks. "No…no, he is not. Where is Cullen?"

It was Irving's turn to blink. "We passed him a moment ago. He is just down the hall," he said pointing through the doubled doors."

She beamed a smile at him. "I'll be right back." She hurried back down the hall until she found the templar standing guard. She approached him with a gentle smile. "Irving tells me you are Cullen?"

He was surprised that a woman of her stature would seek him out. "I am, your Ladyship. Is there something you need of me?"

"Not exactly, Cullen. But I thought there might be something you needed from me. I'm going to Ostagar." She saw the heat flood into his cheeks. It was adorable. The handsome man was hopelessly in love. "I thought you may wish for me to deliver a message to Elvie for you."

"I..uh…" but words failed him. It had crushed his heart to watch her leave. He knew he shouldn't love her. He knew it was against templar code. He knew it was wrong on so many levels, but there was something about her that drew him in. She was the kindest, gentlest, most honorable woman he'd ever met.

"Wait right here." Of course he would. Why had she said that? She entered into the apprentices' quarters and asked for a quill, ink and parchment. She thanked the young apprentice when they handed the items to her and returned to Cullen. "You do not have to tell me anything. Write what you wish and I will not read it. In fact, I will use wax from that candle and seal it with my ring." She handed him the parchment and the quill. She pulled her hair over her shoulder and bent over a bit to present her back to him to write on. She held out the small jar of ink.

He was stunned that she would do this for him. Elvie had taught him that mages were people too. He'd shown her that even if he couldn't trust the other mages, he could trust her. And he did. Completely. Now, the Teyrna of Denerim had taught him that nobility too could have honor and compassion. He placed the parchment against her back and wrote with his heart in hand. If she was to become a Warden, they he many never see her again. They'd given their innocence to each other not a day before she'd been forced to leave and he'd never had the chance to tell her goodbye. It wasn't right to leave things unsaid. She would never be his, but he had to tell her what was in his heart. He could only hope that his love would provide her solace and comfort in her new life. He lifted the page and waved it until the ink dried. The Teyrna took the quill from his hand so he could fold the missive. He then held the folded parchment under the candle near his head to allow the wax to drip down on it. Once done, he handed it to the Tyrna who pressed her ring into the wax.

"When I find her I will make sure that she gets this," she told him.

Cullen bowed. "Thank you, your Ladyship. I cannot express what this means to me. I will never forget what you were willing to do for me."

She smiled sadly at him. "Love is precious and something few are ever able to find. I wish that you could have gone with her. Some things are worth fighting for - worth giving up anything for. You chose your job over love. Your job gives you a sense of satisfaction, a sense of doing something worthwhile…but does it warm your heart and feed your soul? If it does, then you have made the right choice. If it doesn't, perhaps you should rethink your choice. You have given up something most people only dream of finding. I'm not telling you what to do; only you know what's right for you. Just don't look at your choice with blinders on. If you do, you will never find balance and happiness, because your soul will wither from what it has lost. Think about it. That's all." She turned and walked away before he could say anything. She didn't want to hear an answer. The answer, whatever it was, was for him.

She said her goodbyes and hurried out of the tower and down the stairs to the docks. "Sorry for the delay, Kester. Irving asked me for a favor and I wanted to help. I hope they brought you down a meal?"

"Yes, your Ladyship. Thank you. I'm full and tight, I am." He helped her board the boat and poled them back to the Lake Calenhad dock.

She waved back at him as she hurried over to Shadow and Legion. She gave Legion's belly a quick rub and tossed him a dog treat before she mounted Shadow to climb back up the hill and resume her journey.

-BREAK SIX-

She rode hard, giving shadow few breaks until they reached the outskirt of Lothering. She would stay the night here, to give Shadow the rest he needed and let Legion catch up to her. She approached the Hawke's house and dismounted. They were a farming family she'd met about ten years ago passing through Lothering on her way to spend time Cailan. She'd visited them on the way to and from Cailan's since then – except for the last three years.

Analynn, the eldest of the Hawke children had become a welcome friend. She adored Bethany and Carver as well. Carver, the charming scamp, seemed to be quite taken with her mother, who always doted on him. He would blush and stammer anytime she was around. Though, her mother teased her that she, herself, wasn't the Wulff he was interested in. When he got older she began feeling tension during their visits, but he was never anything but charming when they were there. Analynn would tease her saying she should consider moving in with them, since her brother was much more enjoyable when she was around.

She knocked and when no one answered she opened the door to announce her presence, but there was no answer. She turned to scan the fields…nothing. She walked around the house and saw Leandra working in her garden. "Leandra," she said with a grin as the woman looked up at her. "I was beginning to think no one was home."

Leandra squealed and jumped up to hug the young woman. "It' so good to see you!" She took the young woman's hand. "Come on into the house, we should talk."

'We should talk' were always words for concern. She let the older woman pull her into the house and she settled in a chair at the kitchen table while Leandra poured her some juice.

"I haven't seen you in so long! I feared with your marriage I'd never see you again." Leandra's brows drew together. Where was her husband? Why did she ride alone? "I'm surprised you are alone. Surely, that is not safe for you. Has something happened?" she asked as she settled into a chair next to the younger woman.

She took a sip of the juice that was handed to her. "A lot has happened." She explained how her husband had been called back to his father's to watch over Castle Cousland until his father and brother could return from Ostegar. She told her she'd had to stay in Denerim to help Anora keep the people calm with their King going to war. She confided in her about the feeling her husband's anguish the mad dash to Highever only to find that Howe had committed treason and taken over the Teyrnir, killing everyone so as not to leave witnesses behind that knew of his treachery. She went over how she and her men had retaken the keep and then told her about Elvie Amell and how the grey warden, Damon, had saved her by conscripting her into the Wardens.

Leandra's hand flew to her mouth at the horror that had occurred. She didn't personally know the Couslands, but she was from a prominent, noble family and could empathize what such a tragedy would mean to a noble. She could also see the young woman's naked pain and it tore at her heart. "Your husband – he is still alive?" she inquired gently.

Lorianna closed her eyes for a brief moment. "I can sense that he's alive, but nothing more. He and Starlynn are the only survivors, outside of a handful of guards and staff that managed to escape. The only indication I have was from an encrypted message Eleanor had written in blood. She wrote two words: Duncan and Ostagar. So, that is where I'm going. I'm hoping to find answers there. I mentioned Elvie, because I thought she might have been a relative of yours?"

A small, somber smile played on Leandra's lips. "She is. She is one of my cousins. I haven't seen her since she first learned to walk. She was a beautiful baby that could charm anyone who looked at her."

She nodded. "From what Irving – First Enchanter Irving said, nothing has changed about that. I think the only person she never managed to charm was Knight-Commander Greagoir. She did manage to steal a handsome templar's heart. He wrote a missive for me to give to her if I saw her at Ostagar. I spoke with the templar who loved her. His name is Cullen. I told him if his job warmed his heart and fed his soul than he'd made the right choice. If not…if he only stayed because his job gave him a sense of doing something important or worthwhile, then he may need to re-examine his decision, because some things in life are precious and rare. I told him he needed to examine his feelings and motives to ensure that the decision he made was one his soul could live with."

Leandra lifted her hand to her heart. "You have a way with words. That would have had me chasing after my lover. I wonder what he will choose to do? I hope he goes after her, because love is worth giving up everything for. I gave up everything for Malcolm. Our life has not always been easy, but it has always been full of love and I regret nothing."

She smiled. "If you have no regrets, then it is a life well lived. Where is everyone? I did not expect to find you here alone."

The smile on her face faltered. "I am not alone. Bethany is in town and we got a mabari pup a little over a year ago. She was gifted to Ann after she healed a local Lord's son. She named her Kitty," Leandra said with a small giggle that faded as quickly as it had arrived. "My husband died three years ago. There was an explosion in a shed on the farmstead. By the time we got there the only thing recognizable about him was his wedding ring and the singed pendant around his neck that he refused to ever remove. We buried him under an apple tree."

Lorianna's heart fell. "I'm so sorry, Leandra. I should have returned sooner."

Leandra patted her hand. "There was nothing you could have done, honey. And you have an important job. Teyrna of Denerim. I was so proud when I found that out."

She tilted her head over what Leandra had not said. "You didn't mention Carver and Ann. Where are they?"

Leandra released a slow breath. "Carver got it into his head that he wanted to join the King's army to fight the darkspawn. Ann..she went after him to try to keep him safe."

She just blinked. "Ann did what? Was she sitting on her head? There are mages there! Did she think they wouldn't sense her? That they wouldn't see her staff? Sweet hell, she's an apostate…what was she thinking?" Lorianna shook her head at her friend's bullheadedness.

"I tried those same arguments on her. She wouldn't listen. She said Bethany and Kitty could keep me safe, but she'd never forgive herself if something happened to her baby brother. You know how she is, Lor. Once she gets something in her head..." Leandra shook her head. "She is too much like her father, Maker rest his soul. Still – I have hope that she will not be noticed. She no longer carries an obvious staff; she uses a rune imbued sword. Remember when you showed her and Carver how to fight with daggers and swords? They kept practicing and became rather impressive. Carver got the notice of Captain Varel. When the captain invited him to go to Ostagar, he agreed. Annalynn went with him...As long as she stays away from the mages and is careful with her spells, she should be okay," Leandra said, forcing herself to maintain a positive outlook.

"Then I'm sure she'll be okay." If she could keep her stubbornness to a minimum. "If I find them, I will do what I can for them," she promised. "Do you need help with anything while I'm here?"

"I most certainly do not, young lady," Leandra huffed." It is not time to bring in the autumn crops yet. I was merely enjoying the relaxation of weeding my garden. You, on the other hand, have been riding for days. You are going to rest. I am going to fill your belly and then you are going to tuck in for a good sleep. Have I made myself clear?"

Lorianna grinned. "Yes, ma'am!" It felt good for someone to treat her as a normal person for a change.

Bethany opened the door and smiled when she saw the familiar head of hair. "Is mama lecturing again?" she teased.

Lorianna smiled and jumped up from her seat to give Bethany a hug. "It's good to see you again, sweetie! And look, you're all grown up and nearly as tall as me." She looked down at the young woman's untied blouse and tied it back up.

Leandra laughed. "I can't tell you how many times a day I do that."

Bethany stuck her tongue out at her mother. "Just so you know - I'll never be as tall as you. Sadly, 5'.4" is as tall as I'll ever be. I blame mama, of course, considering I'm her height. Ann, is the lucky sister, she is two inches taller than me. She could have at least shown the courtesy of growing one inch shorter so that I could grow one inch taller," she teased.

"Yes, indeed," Lorianna said with a laugh. "How very inconsiderate of her. In fact, I do believe I'll berate her for that very thing, when I get to Ostagar."

Bethany tilted her head. "You are going to Ostagar?"

"Yes." She quickly went over the high points of what happened and the cryptic message mother Eleanor had written in blood. "So, I'm heading to Ostegar to find answers…and hopefully my husband and sister."

"That no good, rotten, bastard!"

"Bethany!" Leandra scolded, though she couldn't keep the smile off her face.

"Sorry, mama, but he is! If he was here, I'd show him why mages are feared!" She didn't have to know the Couslands to be furious over what that deceitful toad had done.

"I've always called him an oily ass-weasel. But I never could get father Bryce to see the truth about his old friend. He told me once that he blamed himself for Rendon getting so badly injured during the war. I think that is why he could never see the truth. His preconceived guilt blinded him."

Bethany giggled. "Oily ass-weasel! That is perfect, Lor! Oh Maker – I'm going to use that sometime!"

"You are not!" Leandra rebuked sternly before her tight face cracked and she burst out laughing.

After dinner they curled up around the hearth fire and told stories. Some of the stories revolved around the Amell ancestral home in Kirkwall and the mischief Leandra got into when she was much younger. That reminded Lorianna of a charming story teller who was from Kirkwall, so she told them of how she and her sister had met Varric and Sebastian and how Varric was writing stories about their lives. How he'd given everyone a nickname. That Laura's was 'princess' and he how he'd said she'd be marrying the Prince of Starkhaven and then return to help him take back his throne. "Of course, he was right – she did marry the Prince, but he'd never fight his parents for the throne. Kael and I have visited Craighorn Keep a few times. I think he's happy right where he is."

"You said he nicknamed everyone? What was Sebastian's and yours?" Bethany inquired.

Thinking of Varric always seemed to put a smile on her face. "He called Seb 'choir-boy'. Seb's parents didn't really have time for a third spare and when he started acting out to get attention they hauled him off to the chantry to try to force him to become a brother. He ran when he got the chance; he's not the kind of man to let himself get forced into anything. He hooked up with Varric and we stumbled across them just west of Redcliffe. As for me…he called me 'highness'. He said I was going to marry the King of Ferelden, even though he knew I was going to Denerim to tell Cailan I was marrying Kael. Cailan doesn't wish any harm on Kael, but he believes Varric's _prediction_ will come true."

"That sounds like an awkward situation for everyone. I mean, the King is married and so are you," Bethany pointed out.

"The heart is rarely practical, especially if it years for something that it needs," Leandra said quietly.

Lorianna nodded an agreement. "It could have become very awkward. We are all very close. Once Cailan assured my husband that he wished no harm on him, that he'd never want to see me hurt, Kael accepted that. Sometimes, love and life can be messy; you just have to make do. I love Cailan and I would have been happy with him, but I'm _in_ love with Kael. Cailan is _in_ love with me, but loves Anora as a close friend. Anora is _in_ love with Fergus and Fergus is _in_ love with her, but he is married to Oriana, whom he loves, but is not _in_ love with." She blinked. "I mean he was married to Oriana." She cleared her throat. "Most people don't get to actually _be_ with the person they are in love with. So if you get the chance to do so, don't let it slip through your fingers. I've always respected Leandra for choosing love over expectation. I wish more people had the strength and courage to do that." And yes, Cullen – I mean you!

Bethany flicked a piece of lint on her tunic. "I've never let myself get close enough to love someone. I - I don't want to face the pain of rejection when they find out I'm a mage. Worse – they could turn me in to the templars. I'd rather be an apostate than a prisoner."

"Bethany – you can't assume they will reject you. I am different and both Cailan and Kael have accepted me. Hell, even Gavorn wanted my hand. My mom is different and my dad accepted her. My entire family was accepted by normal people and they are all happily in love. Cullen fell in love with Laura and he's a templar! Your mom accepted your dad. That is a glowing example right there. If you are uncomfortable then hold off telling him what you are. I'm sure the topic of mages in general will come up more than once and you'll be able to find out how he feels about them. If he has no compassion for mages, then move on. I just – I don't want to see you miss out on a chance for love. Perhaps, I should introduce you to my brother, Berchan," she said with a wink. "You can trade feathers in for fur," she said with a laugh.

Bethany blinked. It took a moment for her to realize she meant changing from Hawke to Wulff. "Funny, Lor…real funny. Instead of flying through the moonlight, I can howl at it."

A rash of barking interrupted their silliness and Lorianna rose from her chair in alarm. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

Bethany grabbed her staff, a pole with a silver ball on each end. She didn't much care for blood; blunt force was less likely to cause bleeding. "I'm going with you."

Lorianna nodded, opened the door and stepped out into the night, her senses on high alert. A grin spread over her lips. "It is just the dogs. Kitty has returned and Legion has finally caught up with me. Kitty was just welcoming him." She knelt down to rub Legion's face and belly. "You took your sweet time, big boy."

The dogs joined them inside and curled up by the fire. Shortly thereafter, the women retired to their rooms. It was odd being in Ann's room without her, but at least it was a familiar bed.

Lorianna woke up early to stretch and work on the routines that kept her muscles honed. After breakfast, she left Legion at the house and went into Lothering with Bethany to pick up the supplies she would need for the rest of the trip and so that Bethany could sell the eggs she'd collected to the merchants.

It felt good just to walk and stretch her legs after so many days in the saddle. She felt freer in Lothering than she felt in most places. With a lack of nobility, no one knew who she was. They might have seen her as nobility because of her expensive light armor, but they didn't know she was a Wulff, a Cousland or a Teyrna.

When they returned to the farmstead she spent another couple of hours with the women before saddling Shadow and resuming her journey. They would head south on The Imperial Highway, through the Hinterlands. It would take at least two more days to get there, if the weather held.


	3. A Thedas Tale Ch3 - Ostagar

Dragon Age

A Thedas Tale

Ch 3 – Ostagar

Duncan led the men past the tower of Ishal, along the ancient keep's walkway. "There were some minor darkspawn skirmished before I left. We expect the bulk of the horde to show themselves here. There are only a few Grey Wardens within Ferelden at the moment, and all of us are here. This blight must be stopped here and now. If it spreads north, Ferelden will fall."

Cailan's scouts had told him that Duncan had arrived and he hurried to greet the Grey Warden personally. "Ho there, Duncan." He caught sight of the four men at the Warden's side and his mouth fell open. "Kael - What are you doing here?"

Kael grinned. "Nice to see you too, Cailan."

Cailan shook his head. His brother should not be here. This is not at all what he'd wanted. He needed to keep Kael safely in the north. In all honesty, he wasn't sure he'd survive the war's ending. Kael had to remain safe at all costs. "I'm sorry, brother," he said, giving Kael a warm hug. "You surprised me. I was not expecting to see you here." He stepped back and looked at Duncan. "Duncan – why is he with you? You didn't recruit him did you?"

"I would like to answer that question, Cailan." Kael interrupted. It was his story to tell. "No, I'm not here to become a Grey Warden. But as you know my father called me away from Denerim to watch over Castle Cousland so that he and my brother could join your forces."

"Your brother has already arrived. I was concerned when your father and Arl Howe's troops didn't show up," Cailan admitted.

"As well you should be. After Fergus left with the Cousland army, Howe's men arrived and attacked the castle. My father, my mother, Fergus' wife and son – nearly everyone was killed by that traitorous ass-weasel. He did not want any witnesses left behind to tell of what he'd done. I believe he left after the attack began so that he could be seen elsewhere, to give himself an alibi."

Cailan stumbled back a step. "No…I never would have thought…" He shook his head. "How could he do this? How could he think he'd get away with such treachery? I swear to you, brother – as soon as we are done here I will turn my army north to retake the castle. Howe will hang for what he's done!"

Duncan blinked and looked from the King to Kael. Realization sank in when he saw them side by side. How could he have not seen the resemblance before? The king had already told him that Alistair was his brother and to see that he was kept out of danger. He, more than anyone, having worked so closely to Alistair, should have been able to spot the similarities. "So I assume that you are-"

Cailan cut him off. "We'll talk about it later, Duncan. Seymour and Geoff have already returned with recruits. Theron and Damon have not returned. It would seem they will miss all the fun. I was afraid you would miss all the fun too, Duncan."

"Not if I could help it, your Majesty," Duncan stated drolly.

Cailan smiled. "Then I'll have the mighty Duncan at my side in battle after all! Glorious! The other Wardens brought back one recruit each and you bring back three! Marvelous. Now, introduce me to your new recruits."

"Of course, your Magesty. The first man I found asked me to recruit him. His name is Dairren Loren, Bann Loren's son. The second man is Ser Gilmore MacLachlainn. A Highever knight of high acclaim. The third man I found at Craighorn Keep when I kept my promise to Teyrn Cousland that I would see his children safely to the Western Hills. His name is Berchan Wulff."

Cailan pursed her lips. "Kael – your wife is going to kill you for allowing her brother to be recruited."

Kael shook his head. "I could hardly stop Berchan. He is his own man and he wanted to join the Wardens. Lor is going to have to accept that. I need to talk to my brother, Cailan. Do you know where he is?"

Duncan knew of Lor. The king spoke of her often -it was hard to focus his mind on other matters, but he'd been unaware that she was the Teyrna of Denerim or that she was a Wulff. It was odd that the King and his brother were so close considering the King was in love with his wife. The webs of nobility were too much for him to even want to think about.

"I'm sorry, Kael. He isn't here. He and his men are scouting deep in the Wilds. I'm not even sure he will return before the battle is over. But I'll make sure he finds you as soon as he comes in," Cailan told him and then turned to the new recruits. "I'm pleased you are all joining the ranks of the Grey Wardens. Now, I'm sorry to cut this short, but I should return to my tent, Loghain awaits to bore me with his strategies."

Duncan wished the King had more patience. "Your uncle sends his greetings and reminds you that Redcliffe forces could be here in less than a week."

"Ha! Eamon just wants in on the glory. We've won three battles against these monsters and tomorrow will be no different," he said glibly.

"Things are going that well?" Gilmore asked in surprise.

Cailan turned to look into the sky. "I'm not even sure this is a true blight. There are plenty of darkspawn on the field, but alas, we've seen no sign of an archdemon."

"Disappointed, your Majesty?" He had to bite his tongue to keep from yelling at the King to take this seriously.

"I'd hoped for a war like in the tales! A king riding with the fabled Grey Wardens against a tainted god!" He turned to face Duncan. "But, I suppose this will have to do. Now I must go before Loghain sends out a search party. Fairwell, Grey Wardens. Kael – join me. I'm sure Loghain will be delighted to see you."

Duncan watched the brothers and Taltos leave for a moment and then turned to his recruits. "What the King said is true. They've had several battles against the darkspawn here."

"Why do I hear hesitation in your voice?" Berchan inquired.

Duncan motioned the men to follow him. "Despite the victories so far, the darkspawn horde grows larger with each passing day. By now they look to outnumber us. I know there is an archdemon behind this. But I cannot ask the king to act solely on my feeling."

"Why not?" Dairren asked. "He seems to hold the Grey Wardens in high esteem."

Duncan pulled to a stop and turned to look at the men. "Yet, not enough to wait for reinforcements from the Grey Wardens of Orlais. He believes our legend alone makes him invulnerable. Our numbers in Ferelden are too few. We must do what we can and look to Teyrn Loghain to make the difference. To that end, we should proceed with the joining ritual without delay."

"A hot meal might be nice first…perhaps a willing wench," Berchan said with a grin.

Duncan chuckled. "I agree. We have until nightfall to begin the ritual. Every recruit must go through a secret ritual we call the Joining in order to become Grey Wardens. The ritual is brief, but some preparation is required. We must begin soon."

"So, there will be five of us?" Gilmore asked.

"No, there are two other recruits here already. I was hoping Theron and Damon would have returned by now, but we can wait no longer."

Dairren purse his lips. "Why is this Joining so secret?"

Duncan released a small breath. "The Joining is dangerous. I cannot speak more of it except to say that you will learn all in good time. Until then, you must trust that what is done is necessary." He turned and resumed walking. "Feel free to explore the camp as you wish. All I ask is that you do not leave it for the time being. Most of the Grey Wardens are down in the valley with the soldiers, but there is another Grey Warden in the camp by the name of Alistair. When you are ready, seek him out and tell him it's time to summon the other recruits. The Grey Warden tent is on the other side of this bridge. You will find us there, should you need to." He turned away to attend to business and give the men a chance to eat and come to terms with their new lives.

On the way to his tent Duncan saw the King and the young Teyrn slip into the Royal tent. He could only imagine that the king must have been stopped multiple times before he could reach his tent. It had been quite obvious the King had not wanted the young Teryn anywhere near Ostagar. He could only wonder what the King would decide to do about him. Regardless, it was not his business. Though, he was glad he'd not conscripted the Teyrn. One king was in danger, another compromised as a Grey Warden – that was more than enough damage for now.

Kael looked back, saw Duncan, and inclined his head to the Warden before stepping into the large tent with Cailan.

Loghain had his hands pressed to the table's hard wood as he looked down to study the map. When the tent flap parted he rose and blinked. The young Teyrn was here? How was that possible? Damn it! Could nothing go right? "Teyrn Kael, I did not expect to see you here. I thought you left for Highever?"

Kael frowned. The man sounded oddly disappointed. Why would that be? "I did, as you know, Teyrn Loghain. But Arl Howe turned traitor and attacked Castle Cousland. I came here to inform my brother and will stay to offer my sword arm."

Howe! How could he let this happen? He had one job! One job! "I hope your family made it out safely." Loghain replied to probe for more details.

"My sister did, but few others survived the attack, as far as I am aware. Cailan has told me he would turn his army north after he is finished here. It is good to know that I have his support," Kael said with a smile to Cailan.

"Of course you do, that goes without saying. Howe will hang for what he's done!" Cailan retorted. Howe was a decorated soldier and supporter since the war with the Orlesians. It was still hard to believe he would do such a thing against the crown.

Loghain frowned. Now more than ever, he knew what had to be done. He was attempting to remove obstacles in case it was required – now, there was no choice. "I'm sorry for your loss," he told the young Teyrn in his most sincere voice. Fergus and the young Teyrn would not leave Ostagar, one way or another. He would see to the young Teyrna when he returned to Denerim.

"Thank you, Teyrn Loghain," Kael said with an incline of his head.

"Now, if you will excuse the King and I, we will discuss what needs to be done," Loghain stated matter of fact.

"Nonsense, Loghain. I've invited Kael to go over the strategy with us," Cailan said with a grin.

Loghain's lips tightened with displeasure. The young Teyrn was not as impressionable as the King, but he was still an inexperienced boy. One way or another, he had to make sure the course of the war stayed on the path he required.

Supper was brought into the tent by servants as they continued to hash over strategic plans for the coming war. By the time they'd finished eating, Loghain was nearly impressed by the young Teyrn's battle knowledge and had been constantly kept on his toes to prove why his plan was the only real option. In the end, the young Teyrn capitulated. The war would go as it needed to. "If you will excuse me, I must attend to my men," Loghain said with a bow to his king.

Cailan patted Taltos' head. "Of course, Loghain. Kael – feel free to familiarize yourself with the camp. My tent is yours…that goes without saying." He rubbed his forehead. "I am concerned about Lor. She came to me when she felt my pain over my father's death. She would have come to you when she felt your pain."

Kael closed his eyes. With everything that had happened, he was too wrapped up in his own hell that he had not even considered that. "Fuck!" He slammed his fist down on the table. "I have not been thinking clearly. I've been absorbed in my own – in my own hell. I did not even consider that. She would have gotten there over two weeks ago. Whatever…" He swallowed hard. "Whatever happened would have already happened by now." He shook his head. "It would take me just as long to get back and I cannot go back without an army." He placed the flats of his hands against the table and closed his eyes. "Ferelden is as stake. One woman's life means little next to that – no matter how my heart bleeds,' he mumbled.

Cailan laid a hand on Kael's shoulder. His heart wanted to march north immediately, but his head knew Ferelden would fall if he did as his heart demanded. "You _know_ my heart bleeds with yours. I would do anything in my power to keep her safe. We will head north as soon as we can. Maker keep her safe until then."

He nodded to Cailan and left the tent. He strolled aimlessly around the camp before his feet stopped moving and his head fell, his heart heavy with worry. It took a moment for the words he heard to sink in.

"….right. And you need to be more careful, Ann. We cannot risk you being discovered. You should not have come!" Carver growled.

Annalynn frowned at her obstinate brother. "I have every right to fight for the future of Ferelden as you do, Carver!"

Kael blinked. His wife often spoke of a family with those names. Perhaps, it was coincidence, but he wanted to find out. He approached the blonde pair. "Ann…Carver…are you both Hawkes?"

Annalynn squared her shoulders and faced the intruder. "We are. What do you want with us?"

He shook his head and smiled. "Nothing but to say hello. My wife talks about you all the time, but I've never had the opportunity to meet any of your family. My wife is Lorianna Wulff-Cousland, I am Kael."

Carver chuckled. "I'll be damned." He looked in the direction of the king's tent absently. "Is she here too?"

"No," Kael negated. "And I wasn't going to be either. Life has a way of taking unexpected turns. I will lend my sword to the coming battle and then return to Denerim." He noticed the intricate sword at her hip. Not a weapon he'd seen mages use in the past. "That is an impressive…weapon, Ann. I assume it does what you need it to do?"

She pulled her sword from her scabbard and laid the flat of the blade against her palm so that he could see the softly glowing runes that ran down the length of the blade. "I had it specifically designed for my needs. It is a marvelous work of craftsmanship."

The blade was thinner than that of a standard longsword and it had a slight curve to it. "I agree. I've never seen anything quite like it. I am assuming you will not be on the frontlines?"

She shook her head and slid her sword back into its sheath. "Of course not. I know my strengths. I classified myself as a rogue. The front lines will consist of Grey Wardens and then warriors. It's my job to stab the darkspawn fuckers in the back while the warriors hold their attention. Throw a little zap in now and again….It's worked well in the previous battles."

"What she's not telling you is that she's gone all soft over one of the Wardens. So far, we've been lucky. He's a new recruit and has been kept off the main field, but I suspect all hands will be needed for the next battle. If he's in it, she will not have her mind where it needs to be," Carver stated baldly with a glare at his sister.

Annalynn sucked in a breath, her cheeks growing hot. "Carver, was that really necessary?"

Interesting. "Will the Warden's head be where it needs to be?"

"Doubt it," Carver grumbled. "His head's been in the clouds ever since he first clapped eyes on her. I'm betting he's a virgin – or at least _was_ one," he teased his sister.

"Carver Hawke! You, of all people, should know there's nothing wrong with being a virgin!" she snapped.

Carver could feel the heat rise in his cheeks. "I didn't say there was anything wrong with it. I was only teasing you!"

She watched her brother storm off. "Sorry you saw that. Looks like I will need to apologize to him when he cools off. We can be a little too much alike at times. But lately he's been moodier than usual." She shook her head. "We'll get through it, we always do." She nudged a pebble with her boot. "He's right though. At least partially. Alistair has me all tied up in knots ever since I first met him. He's so adorably awkward and charming – I couldn't resist him. Neither one of us has felt anything like this before – it just…swept us away. Regardless, we both know what's at stake. On the field…our minds will be where they need to be. Off the field…" she grinned. "Well, that's a private matter." She couldn't help but wonder if Kael was related to Alistair. He was a little taller, his hair golden, his nose a bit smaller, but other than that they could be twins. But then, she'd thought the same about Alistair and Cailan – and that was silly. Best to keep her mouth shut.

"I've no doubts you handle yourself fine in battle. Being in love doesn't mean you lose all reason," he replied.

She inclined her head to him. "Thank you, your Lordship. I don't think Carver will ever understand that – unless he falls in love. I'd introduce you to Alistair, but he and the other recruits have gone into the Wilds on some Grey Warden errand."

His brows drew together. "That's unfortunate; I was hoping to meet the rest of the recruits. The order is fascinating, but it's not for me. I have enough obligations as it is. Cailan says the battles have been going well?"

The Teyrn seemed to have no ill feelings against the King who was in love with his wife. She doubted she would ever understand nobility. "It has. We've lost a few men, but over all their losses have been far greater. My concern is the sheer numbers of darkspawn. With each new battle we wage, there are even greater numbers of darkspawn to fight. Their troops come in fresh, while for us…the battle never really ends. It's the king's unwavering confidence that continues to give us strength," she admitted.

He nodded. "My wife has talked about wanting to stop by your farmstead for a visit. I apologize it has taken so long. The last few years we've visited her family, some emergency or another has forced us to take a different route back to Denerim. But I know she misses you all a great deal."

Annalynn smiled softly. "We miss her too. Caver is far more pleasant when she's there." She laughed. "I even asked her to move in with us once…for the sake of harmony. She turned me down, of course. Made it sound like she was doing me a favor – said she didn't want to mess with such an exciting family dynamic."

He grinned. "That sounds like her." He watched Taltos run off to check out the other mabari in camp before returning his attention to Ann. "What can you tell me about Alistair and the other four recruits?"

"Quite a bit, actually." She beamed him a smile. "I tend to be somewhat nosy and they were not shy in telling me their stories. Daveth and Jory have been here the longest. Daveth tried to pick-pocket a Grey Warden and when the guards caught him they were to hang him for multiple offences, but the Grey Warden conscripted him. Ser Jory was one of Highever's newer knights. He won the last tourney at Highever. That impressed the Grey Warden so much so that he asked the knight to become a Warden. Ser Jory was glad for the honor, but I know he misses his wife, he talks a lot about her and the baby they will soon be having."

He frowned at that bit of news. His grandfather had found a very ancient, private journal from a Grey Warden and added it to his library. He'd learned, long ago, enough about the Wardens that he didn't want anything to do with their order. "They should not allow married people into the Wardens. A man should be with his wife. If Ser Jory just wanted to fight darkspawn he could have joined my father's army. At least he'd have a better chance of seeing his family again."

That was not what she'd wanted to hear. "Grey Wardens shouldn't get married?"

"To each other, perhaps. But their jobs take them far away from home and they are instructed when they join to forget their old lives. Even if Ser Jory survives the – everything, he may never see his wife and child again." He wondered if Jory had even been made aware of that.

Her brows drew together as she chewed on her bottom lip. "So you are telling me that there can be no future between Alistair and me?"

He wasn't sure quite how to answer that. "Honestly, one of two things would need to happen. He would have to go rogue and walk away from the Wardens – maybe even go into hiding or you would have give up your family to follow him wherever he needed to go. Keep in mind there would likely be some missions you could not join him on if they sensitive for the Grey Wardens. I don't think it would be an easy life either way – but then seldom does something worthwhile come easy."

She rubbed absently at a scuff on her light armor. "I hadn't realized it would be so difficult." Her family had supported her all her life, how could she just walk away from them, especially in such dark times?

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything."

Her gaze rose to meet his. "No...I'm glad you did. It is good to understand what you are getting into. Decisions should not be made blindly." She cleared her throat. That was something to think about later. "The other two recruits have tragic tales to tell. Lyrica Mahariel is a dalish elf. She and her lover were exploring some ancient ruins. But they soon found out that they were not alone in the ruins. Skeletons came to life and attacked them. But what had frightened them the most was what she believed to be a darkspawn bear. She and her lover found a mirror in the central chamber. Though she urged him to stay back, her lover was drawn to the mirror and when he touched it the mirror gave off a shockwave of power that knocked her unconscious. When she awoke, the man she loved was gone. Dead…or worse, because the mirror was tainted and it had infected them both with its taint. A Grey Warden, Theron, found her and carried her back to the dalish camp. Her keeper was able to stabilize her with magic. To survive she was forced to leave her clan and become a Grey Warden."

He did not even want to imagine his wife's death. He wasn't sure he'd even want to go on living without her. He'd lost his family, but had to believe his wife was alive. "To lose the one you love and your family, forced to live in a world you never wanted to be a part of. It sounds as though she has a great deal of strength inside of her."

"She does," she said with a nod. "The last new recruit – his story is one no one should have to suffer. Tayln Tabris is from Denerim's alienage. He and his cousin Soris were dressed up for their weddings when the Arl of Denerim's son, Vaughan, and a few of his cronies knocked away the men and stole the brides and their brides' maids to rape them before returning them. Vaughan often got carried away and it wasn't unusual to find female bodies washed up on the shore after he finished with them. Tayln and Soris snuck into the Arl of Denerim's estate to rescue the women. Vaughan refused to release them, so they killed him. They found the women, but before they left they also found their cousin who had gone missing a couple of months back. She was found chained to a bed for easy _use_. They wrapped her in a blanket and carried her back to the alienage. When the guards came, Tayln confessed that he was responsible. Before they could take him away the Grey Warden, Geoff, conscripted him."

That story was personal. It happened under his watch. "I will need to talk to him. We didn't know. No one came forward about Vaughan's despicable acts. Perhaps, they did not think we would believe them – and that needs to change. No one should have to go through what they went through. When I get back, things will change. Anyone found to have been a part of Vaughan's depravity will answer to me."

One arched brow rose. "Sounds like you're willing to piss off the local nobility."

"Oh, I'll piss all over their parade if that's what it takes," he said in dangerously soft voice.

Annalynn laughed. "I like you! I'm glad Lor chose you – you're good for her."

He smiled. "I like to think so. And thank you for filling me in on the new recruits. What can you tell me about Alistair?"

Her smile softened. "He was raised by Arl Eamon until he was about ten years old, when the Arl remarried. His new wife pushed the Arl into sending him to the chantry. Since being a brother was the last thing Alistair wanted to be he instead started training to be a templar. When he was nineteen, Duncan saw him at a tourney and conscripted him against the chantry's wishes. Ever since then, Duncan has meant a lot to Alistair. He's only been a Grey Warden for about six months now. He's awkward, goofy and childish at times, but he has a beautiful heart."

"A heart you've stolen, I'll wager," he teased.

"It's only fair. He stole my heart, what kind of woman would I be if I did not return the gesture?"

"Fair point, indeed," he agreed.

"It's been nice meeting you, your Lordship. But if you will excuse me, I have a brother I owe an apology to."

He inclined his head to her. "Thank you for speaking to me. I hope to see you again soon." He watched her walk away and smiled. He could see why his wife liked them. He made his way over t o the large fire and settled on a log next to it. He stared into the dancing flames until he remember the sealed missive his mother gave to him. He reached into the underside of his chestpiece and pulled the parchment free from its velvet prison.

He stared at the Royal seal. He was told it was to be read only upon Cailan's death. He was hoping it did not come to that. Though he was curious, it was not worth a man he cared for's death.

-BREAK ONE-

Cailan approached the fire and recognized the missive in Kael's hand. He was glad he had it on him. It might be all that would be left of his father's legacy if the battle did not go as planned. While he had a copy in the Royal bedroom and one with the palace archivist – none was safer than the one in hand. "Kael – please come with me, we need to talk."

He rose from the log and slid the missive back into the velvet inner pocket of his chestpiece as he turned to face Cailan. "Did something happen?" he asked curiously. He followed Cailan through the camp, concerned as to why his friend was so quiet.

"Not in the way that you might think," Cailan finally responded. "This is of a more…personal nature." He led him across the bridge and then turned right and led him to one of the battlement. He dismissed the guard standing there and waited for the man to disappear. He placed his hand on the cool stone of the low wall and looked out over the night-darkened, forested swamps and mountains of the Korcari Wilds. As the wind rippled through his pale blonde hair he closed his eyes. How could such peace hide such ugliness? Moments like this and you could almost forget death was waiting for its dance. He released a slow breath and looked over at his brother. "There is something you need to know. I do not know if I will have another time to speak to you about it."

Cailan pointed to a couple of flat chests sitting next to each other. "Please…take a seat." He sat on the chest closest to him and leaned against the low, stone wall. "Did you ever wonder why my father was not upset when Lor chose to wed you? Why he wanted the wedding at the palace?"

He settled on the trunk and turned to face Cailan. "I did. Yes," he admitted. "It seemed rather unexpected. I had assumed it was because he loved Lor as a daughter. Was I wrong about that?"

Cailan shook his head. "No, but there was more behind his decision than that. After all, he knew it would pain me, but he did so anyway. There are…things I have found out, but due to safety precautions I was unable to speak of them. Have you had the chance to meet Alistair?"

That question seemed to come out of nowhere and what did it have to do with what they were discussing? "No, he had already left with the new recruits by the time our discussions with Loghain were finalized."

Cailan nodded. "That is unfortunate, but you will have time to meet him later. My father had a relationship with a low-born woman. Alistair was the babe born of that union. He is my half-brother. My mother was Eamon's sister, so Eamon agreed to raise the boy so that there would be no dishonor on his sister's name. I have only recently become aware that Alistair knew who his father was, but he appears to go to great lengths to hide that truth. Agents have kept a watch on him for me, but they were unable to prevent his conscription into the Wardens. I came to know my brother through my agents, but it pains me that I've never been able to know him personally."

It was an interesting story but it left him with more questions and no answers. "I must confess, Cailan, I'm not sure what Alistair has to do with the Meric's decision to have us wed at the palace."

Cailan exhaled slowly and leaned forward, his forearms resting on his thighs. "Of course you don't. I suppose I'm making more of a mess of things. I'm just…not proud of what I'm about to tell you. You see, Alistair wasn't my only brother. There was a noble family of high rank; rumors of supposed treason began to be spread. My father knew they were not true; he had utmost faith in this family. But he used those rumors to his advantage. He did not wish to wed again. He enjoyed elven women and did not wish a new wife to interfere with his pleasures. So he struck a deal with the nobles – or perhaps just the noble's wife, I do not know. But the deal was that she would bear the king a child, and raise it as befitting an heir, but keeping its birthright a secret. He, in turn, would fabricate evidence to disprove the vicious rumors and save the noble family from ruin."

Kael's mouth fell open and then slammed shut. "I would never have believed Meric capable of such a thing."

Cailan grunted. "Nor would I, but my father did whatever it took for Ferelden and Ferelden needed a spare heir. This was before Alistair came about. My father was a good man, but he was not a perfect man. And while I may not support how my father went about acquiring another heir, I am glad my brother is in my life. I was fortunate enough to have become close with him." His gaze locked onto Kael's.

A cold feeling of dread pooled in his belly. Cailan was close with only a few people. And this all started with a question as to why Meric wanted the wedding at the palace. And now he feared he knew that answer. He wanted to watch his son get married. "Cailan – tell me you're not saying…" If he was Meric's son, then everything he thought he knew was a lie.

"I'm sorry, Kael. I'm sorry that this hurts you, but I'm pleased that you are my brother. That missive is one of three that claim you as Meric's son. You were raised a Cousland, but your birth name has _never_ been Cousland. You are Kael Bryce Theirin, next in line for the throne."

It felt like the ground had opened up beneath him; he was falling…and there was no end in sight. He pulled out the missive and stared as Meric's seal. His father had asked his mother if she'd given him the missive. He knew. He had been a part of it all along. "They never said anything…" he mumbled tightly.

He felt bad that his brother's world was crumbling. He never wanted to hurt him. "They were keeping you safe. Our father feared that if he claimed you publically he would be putting a target on your back. If he and I were killed, he needed to know there was a Theirin alive that could take the throne. The missive was to be opened upon my death. But I am a selfish man. I didn't want to die without you knowing the truth of what you mean to me. You are my brother and I have always loved you. I know this is a lot to take in right now, but I could not think of an easy way to tell you. What you do with this information is up to you. You are my brother and you are a Prince of Ferelden. I will support the choice you make. But the truth _will_ be revealed on my death and you _will_ take the crown." One corner of his lips pulled up into a small smile. "Varric was right when he said Lor would be wed to the King of Ferelden – I just always thought he meant me," he said in a light, teasing voice that didn't quite match the somber look in his eyes.

Kael swallowed hard. "I want this to remain a secret. You may live another forty or fifty years, you may have plenty of heirs to take the throne when it's time – or I could die before you. There is no need to cast a shadow on my family's name at this point."

His brother was wrong on at least one point. He would have no heirs of his own. He had no interest in bedding any woman but Lorianna. His heart would not allow him to be unfaithful to his love for her. If that made people see him as silly or foolish, then so be it. The throne had an heir – a good one. There was no need for him to produce another - he could stay true to his heart. That, however, was not something he needed to share with his brother. "I understand and I will accept your decision." He looked over at the elf that was running towards them.

"It is time, your Majesty. The new Grey Wardens return," the elf said as he tried to catch his breath.

He nodded, waved the elf away and released a harsh breath as he rose. "I have called a meeting with the advisors and the new Grey Wardens. It would not do for me to miss my own meeting. Join me, brother, while we go over strategy one more time. I swear it is the most boring part of battle," he said with a shake of his head. He led them back across the bridge, circled around the mage encampment, walked up a small ramp and hurried to long table where the meeting was to take place.

Loghain exhaled loudly. "Nice of you to join us, Cailan. I thought I would have to send out a search party. I was just telling the advisors that there was no reason for you to be at the front lines. You are better served standing as general over your troops. You are here to support and rally the troops, not die with them."

No, he was not going to hide away in safety while his men bled and died for Ferelden. "Loghain, my decision is final. I will stand by the Grey Wardens in this assault."

His lips tightened. "You risk too much, Cailan! The darkspawn horde is too dangerous for you to be playing hero on the front lines."

"If that's the case, perhaps we should wait for the Orlesian forces to join us after all," Cailan pointed out.

Damn the foolish boy! "I must repeat my protest to your fool notion that we need the Orlesians to defend ourselves!"

Cailan shook his head. "It is not a 'fool notion'. Our arguments with the orlesians are a thing of the past…and _you_ will remember who is king."

Loghain rubbed his forehead. "How fortunate Meric did not live to see his son ready to hand Ferelden over the bastards who enslaved us for a century!" he growled.

"Then our current forces will have to suffice, won't they? And that means every sword arm is needed – including my own. We do not have enough men for anyone to sit idle." He caught sight of the Grey Wardens as they approached the table. He noticed two of the recruits were not with them. "Five new Grey Wardens. Glorious. Ducan, are your men ready for battle?"

Duncan inclined his head. "They are, your Majesty."

"It is unfortunate two were lost. A Grey Warden's life is dangerous." He looked at the dalish, elf, and the three humans. "Congratulations are in order, Grey Wardens."

"Some of us didn't have a choice," Lyrica pointed out.

Cailan nodded. "Very few get the luxury of choice. But every Grey Warden is needed and your sacrifice is appreciated."

Loghain frowned. "Your fascination with glory and legends will be your undoing, Cailan. We must attend to reality." Cailan wanted to play the fool? Let him. He would not risk his country falling into orlesian hands again. Nothing could deviate from his plan. He would save Ferelden, even if he had to save it on his own.

He was really getting tired of Loghain's attitude. He was an adept strategist, but a piss-poor diplomat that could not see past his own narrow view. "Fine. This conversation is going nowhere. We'll speak of strategy." He placed the flats of his hands against the table and leaned over to view the map. "The Grey Wardens and I draw the darkspawn into charging our lines and then…?"

Loghain joined him at the map. "You will alert the tower to light the beacon, signaling my men to charge from cover."

"Yes," Cailan interrupted. "To flank the darkspawn, I remember. This is supposed to be the Tower of Ishal in the ruins, yes? Who shall light the beacon?"

"I have a few men stationed there. It's not a dangerous task, but it is vital," Loghain told him.

No, he would not trust Loghain's men for such an important task. Something didn't sit right with him. He needed to ensure the beacon was lit. "Then we should send Kael – he can lead Alistair and the new Grey Wardens to make sure it is done."

"You rely on these Grey Wardens too much. Is that truly wise?" Loghain inquired.

The man simply would not see reason. "Enough, Loghain! Grey Wardens are renowned warriors trained to fight darkspawn. We need them if we are to win this war."

Uldred frowned. All this infighting was unnecessary. He stepped forward. "Your Majesty. The tower and the beacon are unnecessary. The Circle of Magi-"

The chantry mother glared at the mage who interfered. "We will not trust our lives to your spells, mage! Save them for the darkspawn!"

"Enough!" Loghain growled. "This plan will suffice. The Teyrn and the Grey Wardens will light the beacon." _If_ they got past his men and actually lit the beacon…he would have to deal with that when the time came.

A small grin flitted across Cailan's lips. "Thank you, Loghain. I cannot wait for that glorious moment! The Grey Wardens battle beside the king of Ferelden to stem the tide of evil!"

Loghain started walking away. His footsteps faltered and a satisfied gleam came into his eyes. "Yes, Cailan. A glorious moment for us all." He pursed his lips and continued walking away. He needed to see to his troops and let them know the change of plan.

Cailan nodded his agreement. "Kael – go with Duncan to prepare your strategy with the Grey Wardens."

Golden brows crinkled together. "You do not want me to fight at your side?"

He shook his head and drew his brother off to the side. "What you are doing is more important than that. Something is not right and I trust you above anyone else to make sure that beacon is lit. All our lives may very well depend on it." What he couldn't tell his brother is that he was not willing to risk his life in battle. His brother had to survive at any cost. If the worst came to pass, he could not think of a better man to assume the throne. He sent Alistair with him for the same reason. Alistair may not have been his first choice for King, but he was a Theirin.

Kael released a harsh breath. "Fine, Cailan. But you keep your ass out of the fire."

Cailan clapped his brother on the back. "Yes…I'd rather not roast in a full suit of armor. The smell would surely make the darkspawn salivate."

"Quite true and we would not want to see your beautiful armor stained with darkspawn drool." The smile slipped from Kael's lips. "Seriously, though…take care of yourself out there."

"Of course, Kael." Cailan inclined his head. "I wouldn't want Lor to tear open the veil and chastise me for thoughtlessly dying. I will see you after the battle and we shall drink until we pass out."

Kael nodded. "I will hold you to that." As he turned away, he looked back one last time at the man that was now his brother, before hurrying down the stone ramp to meet up with Wardens at the fire. Cailan had been right. Something didn't feel right, but he couldn't put her finger on what it was. He nodded to Duncan as he joined the Wardens.

Duncan looked over his men. "You heard the plan – you heard the King's words. Alistair, you are the senior Warden. Berchan, you are the senior warrior. You two will lead the rest of your brothers under the command of the Teyrn. You will go to the Tower of Ishal and ensure the beacon is lit on the Teyrn's command."

Alistair was not a fan of the plan at all. He should be in the battle. "Why do we need six Grey Warden and a Teyrn to light a beacon guarded by Teyrn Loghain's men?"

"Because Cailan and I both think that something isn't right." Kael interjected. "We cannot know what we will face at the Tower. It is better to be over-prepared than caught with our pants down. A handful of men will likely not turn the tide of the battle, but it may save our asses at the Tower."

"Fine. I see the logic in that, but if the king asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I'm drawing the line."

"I have just the dress for you," Lyrica replied with a wicked grin.

Duncan grumbled at the ridiculous banter.

Alistair frowned at her. "Can we join the battle after the beacon is lit?"

"You will look to your Commander for that, Alistair. He will decide what to do based on what you find at the Tower," Duncan assured him. "You must ensure the beacon remains lit until Teyrn Loghain's men are on the field. Now, I must go join the others."

Alistair nodded and took his mentor's hand. "Stay safe, Duncan."

"You as well, Alistair." He released the young Warden's hand. "Maker watch over us all."

"Let us go, men…and lady," he added with a smile to the dalish. He led them to the bridge that would take them to the tower. Sounds of battle erupted from the valley below. Then it has begun. He hurried past archers firing from the bridge. Balls of flaming stone smashed into the keep's towers, causing the bridge to rumble beneath his feet. He held his hands out to keep his balance and picked up speed.

Sounds of battle could be heard nearby; as he drew nearer he could see that darkspawn had engaged Loghain's men. In battle few things went as expected. It had been a wise choice to send a greater number of men to the Tower. It did not look like Loghain's men would be able to handle it. He bellowed his battle cry and charged the nearest darkspawn, his dagger and sword cutting a deadly path.

By the time the field was cleared of darkspawn, two of Loghain's men had run down from the Tower to join them. He called off Taltos, who growled menacingly at them.

"The Tower….it's been taken. Darkspawn are already inside!" the archer exclaimed as he bent over to catch his breath. They had been ordered to kill any men not belonging to Teyrn Loghain and ensure the beacon was not lit. But with only two of them left, he doubted they'd be able to succeed against seven men and a very angry mabari. He wasn't about to bet his life on it. Not when these men might be his only chance to stay alive.

Well, fuck. "Did they break through your front ranks?" asked Kael.

"No, your Lordship. They came through the lower chambers! They're everywhere! Our men our dead!" the mage cried, unable to hide the terror in his voice. This was supposed to have been a simple ambush, but they were the ones that had been ambushed.

Kael nodded. "Then we take the Tower back! On me, men!" He ran up the steps and led them into the Tower. Evidence of death lay everywhere. The darkspawn were fully entrenched. He was surprised by the cunning traps that seemed to cover much of the way through, but he had no way of knowing if the traps were laid by Loghain's men or the darkspawn. If they were set by the darkspawn, then they were far more dangerous than anticipated. If they were set by Loghain's men, that begged the question _why_? The only other people expected in the Tower were him and the Wardens. He knew Loghain disagreed with the king, but would he sabotage everything because of that?

They fought their way through the ground floor and discovered that a portion of the floor had given away and the darkspawn were using it to access the tower. His sword arched out and took the head of a darkspawn that was coming up out of the hole.

"Alistair and I, along with Loghain's men, will go up to light the beacon. Berchan, you are in command of the other Wardens. Kill whatever comes out of that hole. Make sure no Darkspawn flank us! Taltos, stay with Berchan!" he ordered. "If you are overrun…fall in behind us. Someone needs to light that beacon if we fail. Maker protect us all." With a nod to his men, he hurried up the stairs to access the second floor.

More darkspawn awaited them – it was evident they'd have to fight their way to the top. So be it. It was a race against time and they had to fight for every inch. "And here you were worried you'd miss all the fighting," Kael teased Alistair.

"Silly me to worry about that when nothing ever goes as planned," he remarked as he took the head off a hurlock.

"We're almost there!" Kael shouted when they reached the stairs that led up to the Tower roof. He swung the door open and ran out onto the roof. He came to a stop and held his arms out to prevent the others from running past him.

A massive ogre was eating something they didn't care to think about, bones crunched and blood exploded everywhere. How had that thing even fit through the doors? It turned around to face them and let out a blood curdling roar, spraying saliva.

Kael wiped the offending slime from his face and yanked his seldom used shield from his back as he ran towards the massive beast. He beat his dagger against his shield to draw the ogre's attention from the others. He threw his dagger; it sank hilt deep into the creature's chest, but it did not fall. With his right hand, he pulled his sword from its sheath at his left hip. When the beast lowered and charged he swerved out of the way, a smile on his face. He knew how to kill it. Which was good, considering the monster seemed to be shrugging off hits like they were naught more than the annoying buzzing of a gnat's wings. "Alistair! Pull him off me – get him to charge you. I have an idea!"

"Are you mad?" he yelled out, not wishing to be a pincushion. "I don't want to take one for the team!"

"Trust me! It won't come to that!" he said as he bashed the ogre's meaty fist with his shield. The impact sent tremors through his body hard enough to make his teeth ache. Note to self – don't do that again.

Alistair frowned. "Fine. But I better not die or I will come back to haunt you! Hey, ugly!" he yelled, beating his sword against his shield. "Dinner bell! Come and get it!" he taunted. He swallowed hard when the beast turned around and roared at him. When he lowered his head to charge he pulled up his shield, got behind it and braced himself for the impact.

Kael placed his shield back on his back and ran at the monster's side. When his shoulders came down for the charge he leapt up, grabbed the beefy shoulder and pushed off. He twisted his body and landed on the oger's shoulders. He reached between his horns and over the top of his head to shove his fingers into the beasts eyes and yanked his head back by the eye sockets. He drew his sword across the monster's throat, opening him up from ear to ear and back-flipped off his shoulders.

The ogre's body wavered as his massive hands reached up to stanch the curtain of blood that pumped from his torn throat. He took two stumbling steps backwards and fell far more gracefully than he had a right to. Kael yanked his dagger from the ogre's chest with a grunt. The damned thing had been wedged tight between its ribs.

"Did anyone else just see that? Did that really happen? I was waiting to become Alistair paste and you just fly onto the ogre's back like you had wings. Are you sure you're not a mage?"

"Don't look at me, I couldn't do that if I wanted to!" the mage interjected.

Kael ignored them, grabbed a burning torch and lit the fire for the beacon. He looked up as the flame burst up into the night. "Done! Now we need to get back down to the others!" No sooner did the words leave his mouth when darkspawn filled the room. They'd broken through his wife's brother's defenses. He could only hope Berchan survived. As they fought the incoming throng he saw the mage and then the archer fall. If he survived this, he intended to augment his armor with a strip of throwing knives down his back.

The room was littered with bodies as he and his brother stood back to back fighting what was left of the wave of darkspawn. They were bloody and in bad shape, but so were the darkspawn. When Alistair slipped and went down, he stood guard over his brother's body. He took the head of a hurlock and turned to face the remaining genlock. He grunted when its arrow found a gap in his chainmail and pierced his side. With his last bit of strength he pulled his sword back and hurled it at the archer. He sank to his knees as his vision darkened and fell over the top of his brother's body.

-BREAK TWO-

She could hear the screams and smell the blood in the air as she approached the battle. She blinked when she saw familiar Cousland horses tied by their reins near the rear of what was one of the camps. She dismounted and untied the horses from the log and tied their reins to their saddles so they would not trip over them. She felt an intense wave of fear followed by pain. Cailan! "Legion - Follow me with the horses, but keep away from the fighting!" When he barked and wagged his butt, she patted the top of his head. "Stiryi!" she told the horses, which meant _follow dog_. Had she said _stiriya_ it would have meant follow me. She left the horses for Legion to protect and hurried out onto the field of battle. Since Taibor was here, her husband had to be as well.

She blasted darkspawn from her path as she pushed deeper onto the field. It didn't take her long to see Cailan's gold tinged armor prone on the ground. She ignored everything else, ran to his side and dropped down on her knees next to him. There was blood everywhere, but she could see the slight rise and fall of his chestguard. She placed her hands over his armor and focused a wave of healing into his body. She didn't specialize in healing, she knew enough to help out in a pinch, but it drained her faster since she did not use it often.

Cailan's eyes flickered open to see a vision he never thought he'd see again. "Stop…" he said weakly. "You can't…save…me. Back..shattered…crushed." Blood splattered from his lips when he coughed.

Tears rolled down her cheeks. "No…no…Cailan. Not you..not like this…"

" Shhh…Kael is…king. Var-ric was…right." Blood leaked from the corner of his mouth and he coughed again.

She drew her hand roughly across her eyes to clear the tears so that she could see him. "I love you, Cailan. I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner. I should have-"

He smiled weakly. "My…queen….have always lov-loved you…" his head fell to the side as a breath of air hissed from his lips in a bubble of blood.

Duncan had heard the exchange and saw the smile on the former king's face. He wiped the blood off his forehead before it could drip into his eyes. "I'm sorry, your Majesty. There is no time to mourn. Teyrn Loghain took his army, quit the battlefield and betrayed us all."

She rose from where she'd knelt and sent a massive wave of power towards the oncoming darkspawn, sending them crashing into their heinous brotheren. He watched her hands curl into claws at her side, a cold hatred burning in her eyes. She lifted her hands and with a howl of agony, torn from the depths of her soul, she jerked her hands apart. The Oger's head and body were propelled in opposite directions, the weight of his body crushing several darkspawn beneath it.

Duncan had never seen the kind of power she wielded. He didn't know what she was and he didn't care. "Go, your Majesty. I will stay with the King. You must protect the new King and gather a another army to fight the darkspawn, before all of Ferelden is lost. He was at the Tower of Ishal; the beacon will guide you," he told her as he pointed towards the Tower.

Her eyes slid from the dark-haired man to the menace approaching. She lifted her hand and squeezed it into a fist. The Ogre was lifted from the ground, dangling in a power he couldn't fight as his neck was pulverized. His head fell limply to the side, the skin of his neck stretched, threatening to tear from the strain of its weight. She hurled the body into the next wave of darkspawn.

He looked out over the battlefield seeing more of their men fall beneath the crush of the horde. As much as they needed her here, the battle was already lost; those remaining would take out as many as they could before they fell. "Go, your Majesty! The battle here is lost – you have a larger one to prepare for."

She looked the dark haired man in the eyes and nodded before she looked down, one last time, to see the precious face of a man that meant the world to her. A gentle smile was frozen on his lips, but his eyes were sightless. She had arrived too late to save him. But Loghain…Loghain would pay for his treachery. She turned and quit the field, leaving the men to their fates. Leaving was not easy for her, the need to fight on, to save as many as she could clawed at her relentlessly. But the dark haired man was right, this battle was lost and it was up to her to help win the next one.

She held her arms out and motioned upwards with her hands, propelling herself up to the lip of a crumbling bridge, saving her precious time over climbing up to the encampment. She let off a shrill whistle as she ran. She did not stop running even when she heard the pounding of hooves behind her. When Shadow reached her side she leapt into the saddle and urged him to move more swiftly. Legion and the other Cousland mounts were heard not far behind her. She leaned low over Shadow's neck as they raced across the stone bridge, heading towards the sound of battle.

As she approached the Tower she saw two women and a man battling five darkspawn. One was a dwarven archer and one was a mage, though she was fighting with what appeared to be two swords connected at the hilt. The man wore the armor of a Grey Warden. She brought her arm in towards her and flung it outwards. The genlock archer in the cusp of her power was hurtled over the edge of the tower's battlements to fall to the valley below.

She swung off her mount and dropped to the ground, clutching her head. She could feel her husband's pain. The Grey Warden hurried towards her.

"I am Damon. Do you know what happened here? We were delayed getting back," he told her.

She quickly explained what she was told. How the beacon was lit to call down Loghain's troops to flank the darkspawn and how he quit the field, leaving the king and his men and the Wardens to die.

Damon's hands curled into fists. His brothers' lives…the battle…lost to treachery. "I must try to reach the other Wardens in Orlais to tell them what has happened." He turned to the two women. "I am sorry, but I will have a better chance of making it alone. Go with…." He back to the beautiful, pale honey haired woman. "Who are you?"

"I am Lorianna Wulff-Cousland," she replied.

He nodded. "Teyrna of Denerim."

She frowned. "Amongst other things."

"This was my recruit, Elvie Amell of the Circle and that was Theron's recruit, Syn Aeducan of Orzammar." He returned his attention to his recruits. "Go with the Teyrna. I have a feeling she will be able to see you safely away from here. I must go," he said before he turned and melted into the night.

She nodded to the ladies. Small talk could wait, her husband needed her. "We need to…" The flap of wings drew her attention up to the night's sky. A large dragon circled the tower and then landed on its roof. It stayed but a moment and then lifted off, to head deeper into the Korcari Wilds. "That was…unexpected." She blinked when two flaming arrows shot from the top of the roof. "There are people still up there and if they can't come down then we can't go up. Damn it, I can't get us up there." She shook her head. "Wait - If I can get them to jump one at a time, I should be able to ease their fall."

Elvie chewed her lip and then nodded to herself. "That won't be necessary. I studied unorthodox, ancient and not altogether approved forms of magic at the circle. I can get us up there as long as you do not mind riding the neck of a dragon."

Syn grinned. "If I say _I love you_ , will you promise not to take it the wrong way?"

"Please," Lorianna said. "We've no time to waste."

Elvie backed away from them and closed her eyes as she murmured the words that would change her form. Her body itched and tingled before a flash of light altered her structure. She blinked to adjust to the new scope of vision. She turned carefully and lowered her head to the ground. She watched as the Teyrna raised her arms and lifted Syn up onto her neck in a burst of power. She raised herself in the same odd manner. She hoped they would hang on tight. She spread her wings and lifted up into the dark sky.

Lorianna caught sight of an archer aiming up at the dragon. "Stop!" she yelled and sent a wave of power that caused the bow to fly from his grasp. "Move aside so we can land!" The three men moved quickly away and the dragon brought her wings in as she landed. She was stunned when she recognized one of the faces. "Brother! What the hell are you doing here? Are those my husband's weapons?" No. He couldn't be dead, she could still sense him.

Never would he ever have imagined his sister would ride atop a dragon and rescue him from certain death. "I'll explain it all later. The other dragon took Kael and Alistair! We must follow!"

With a burst of power she raised the three men off the ground and settled them behind the women. "Hang on for your lives. It's going to be a bumpy ride! Can you catch up to the other dragon?" she asked Elvie. The dragon nodded her head and lifted off of the Tower roof with a powerful sweep of her wings.

As a dragon, her night vision was unparalleled and she had no problem locating the other dragon. Even if she couldn't catch up to it, she could follow it. After a few minutes she saw the dragon descend to the ground in front of a hut. There was a flash of light and she had to refocus her sight to see the tiny human. She could make out three human forms..no four, another just joined them. They carried one inside the hut. One returned and…did she just dump water of the other one on the ground? As she began to descend the woman…yes, it was a woman…lifted her staff up high and then shot a bolt of magic at her.

Lorianna saw the incoming bolt and drew a protective barrier around the dragon. The bolt ricocheted harmlessly off the barrier. She saw a woman hurry out of the cabin as Elvie lowered them into the clearing. She lifted the passengers from the dragon's neck and lowered them to the ground, before she drew her legs up under her and flipped off the dragon's neck to the ground. There was a flash of light and Elvie appeared once more.

Flemeth looked over the newcomers with a calculating eye. "Well, well, well…look what we have here. Impressive magic for one so young."

Elvie pursed her lips. "I would say it's impressive magic even for one so old as you."

Flemeth tilted her head back and laughed. "Would that all mages were as spirited as you, alas that is not the case." She looked at the armor the men wore. "Three Grey Wardens, a dwarf, a mage and…something else entirely," she said as she gazed at the honey haired young woman. "Let me guess, you came here because I took something of yours?

"Why did you take them?" Lorianna asked.

Flemeth grinned. "Why to save their lives, of course. I was surveying the hoard to see how closely it was encroaching on my land and on my way back I saw a man defeat a mighty ogre atop a tower. A rather impressive lad; the other was a Grey Warden. The two men fell before I could land, but as they were the only ones left breathing, I plucked them up and brought them here. I was unaware any other Grey Wardens survived the battle. I thought I was saving the last one."

Berchan frowned. "So no one survived the battle? We are the last?"

"The last Grey Wardens in Ferelden, certainly. After a man commanded his army to quit the field, the darkspawn overwhelmed the others in the valley. I saw a few scurry away into the night, but yes…other than that, there were no survivors."

Tayln knelt down next to the unconscious Warden. "It's Alistair. He's breathing…and wet."

Flemeth laughed. "It took only a small spell to heal him. He's wet because my Morrigan dumped a pot of water over his head to awaken him, but he is too exhausted to respond to her efforts. Morrigan, have you lost your tongue, girl?"

"It would seem I do not need mine, mother. Yours is wagging enough for the both of us," she retorted.

Flemeth shrugged. "Such a sharp tongue my daughter has, what's a mother to do?"

Tayln looked up at the dark haired beauty. "Will you at least get him a blanket? Please."

Did elves have to be so nauseatingly pretty? He had stood out from the others when she'd met them earlier and that was a distraction she didn't need. "Very well," she said before she disappeared inside the cabin.

"I am Lorianna and I would appreciate it if you would be so kind as to show me to my husband," she told the older woman.

"Such manners," Flemeth said with a chuckle. "Follow me," she said, motioning her into the cabin. "Morrigan, see that our guests are entertained."

Lorianna knelt down next to the bed while the women talked. She drew a hand across her husband's forehead. Cool to the touch. That boded well. She pulled the blanket down to check his wounds. "Arrows," she murmured. She covered the two wounds that looked partially healed and closed her eyes.

Morrigan frowned. "What do you suggest I do, mother? Dance naked under the moonlight?"

Flemeth laughed. "Oh, how you do like to dance. Do what you must – it is all any of us can do."

When her daughter left, Flemeth turned to the woman. She could feel the power emanating from her, yet she was no mage and she was not touched by the fade. No, it was a power she had felt once before when she had flown near the Western Hills. A Witch of the Hills. A title with no meaning, because she was no witch. When the power ebbed, the woman's head slumped with exhaustion. Her hands slipped from wounds that were little more than pink, puckered scar tissue. "You have great power, but it is unlike anything I have felt before."

Lorianna blinked and pulled her head up to look at the old woman. "There is nothing I can say about myself that can be believed and it is far too complicated to explain easily, so I will leave it at I'm different."

Flemeth couldn't leave it at that. The woman's power rivaled her own and perhaps it was greater. She pulled over two chairs and set one next to the young woman and seated herself in the other. "Your husband needs to rest; it would appear that we have time to talk. I would imagine my story is as much a secret as your own. Tell me, child, is one secret worth another?" Few people knew her story, not even her daughter. But it was a price she was willing to pay to understand the power the young woman held.

With one hand on her husband's chest, receiving comfort from its rise and fall, she turned to face the older woman. She did not trust the woman. There was something unsettling about her, but there was no denying her power. She had the same feel as other mages; but if she had to guess, she thought the woman might be connected to the fade at some deeper level. Regardless, right now she felt no deceit in the woman and it was good to know ones enemies as well as ones friends and at this point she wasn't sure which the woman was. "If there is an exchange between us, I will warn you to play it straight with me – I will know when you tell an untruth."

Unfortunate on the whole, but she'd not intended to lie. Not in this. "Your speech is odd, but perhaps your story will explain it. To show my sincerity, I will speak of myself first. The woman you see, Flemeth, is only a part of who I am. We are tied to each other and exist together." She explained how she was once an elven mage that became an elven deity. She spoke of how she was betrayed and murdered by her pantheon and swore to seek vengeance upon them. She told her she eventually found Flemeth, who had called out for vengeance after being betrayed. Flemeth had allowed her in and they had become one and thus they have lived for centuries.

That would explain the unsettling feeling she felt with the woman. Two spirits bound together in one body. It was obviously an over simplification of her story, but it would do. "You are what is referred to as an abomination, but rather than consuming or subjugating the host, you co-exist."

She was pleased to see the young woman felt no fear or outrage at the revelation. "That is as good an explanation as any."

Lorianna nodded. "Rarely is something as simple as it seems. But my story doesn't begin with me it begins with my mother." She explained how her mother came from the stars and belonged to an order of gifted people called jedi. How her mother's airship was pulled through a tear in the sky and crashed in the Western Hills. She told of how her father found her mother, fell in love with her and wed her. She also told of how she suspected that her mother had come over pregnant and that her father was actually from the other side, a jedi like her mother. It explained why she looked nothing like her father and why her power was stronger than her siblings.

From the stars? An airship? That was not something she ever would have thought to consider. In all her years she had never heard of such a thing, but nor could she discount it because she had never felt a power like the young woman had and she had sensed the disruption the day the sky tore. "I'm far too old to disbelieve anything blindly. Shut one's eyes tight or open one's arms wide – either way, one's a fool."

"There is much truth in those words," Lorianna agreed.

Flemeth laughed heartily. "I have had many lifetimes to learn those lessons well."

"Do you ever get tired of living?" she asked curiously. She would never want to live so long.

"At times," Flemeth admitted. "I will find my rest when I have taken care of those who murdered me. For now, they are as unreachable as your stars and so I wait to fulfill my oath."

Now she understood. "I would normally not wish to live so long, but I would if that is what it took to see that Loghain and Howe pay for their crimes."

Flemeth tilted her head, a smile spreading on her lips. "Then we have an understanding."

"We do." While Lorianna waited for her husband to wake up she washed out the blood and grime that covered the over tunic of his armor and mended the torn links in his chainmail. Berchan had brought her husband's cleaned weapons into the hut and explained to her how he ended up at Ostagar and how he became a Grey Warden. While she was not pleased that he'd left the family she did understand how much being his own man meant to her brother.

-BREAK THREE-

Later, the following evening, Morrigan entered the cabin after her mother and the woman stepped out. She settled the back of her hand against Kael's forehead. He was cool to the touch. That boded well. She blinked when he grabbed her wrist. "Oh, your eyes finally open. Mother, and I dare say others, will be pleased."

Kael released the hand he trapped and sat up in bed. He winced when he felt the pull of his muscles. "Where am I?" Nothing looked familiar. Nothing was right. He remembered being overrun by darkspawn, he team falling…arrows….and then nothing. His hand rose to feel where he's been struck, but the wounds were healed.

"Why you are in my home, 'tis obvious, is it not?" she asked arching a brow. "How does your memory fare? Do you remember mother's rescue, Kael?"

He shook his head. "I remember being overrun by darkspawn – then nothing," he admitted and then cleared his throat. "But I fear I am at a disadvantage, I do not know your name."

She chuckled. "My name is Morrigan. The Warden by the name of Berchan speaks of you a great deal. I would have to be deaf to not know your name."

"Berchan is here – how…were others with him?" He shook his head, if anything he was more confused. He had thought they had fallen when the roof was breached again.

She nodded. "How…that is an interesting question. Would you believe me if I told you they arrived here on the back of a dragon?" she asked with an arched brow.

A dragon? "Now you are just teasing me."

She shrugged. "If you do not believe that then you will not believe how my mother rescued you."

Okay, he'd bite. "How did she rescue us?"

"She turned into a giant bird and plucked the two of you from atop the Tower, one in each talon. If you do not believe that tale, then I suggest you ask mother yourself. She may even tell you."

This was making little sense. "What happened to the army? To the king?"

"The man that was to respond to your signal quit the field. The darkspawn won your battle. Those he abandoned were massacred. Your friend…the Grey Warden, mother rescued alongside you…he is not taking it well. The others are faring well enough it seems."

"Have the darkspawn not reached this place?" It seemed like they were everywhere.

"We are safe enough, for now. Mother's magic keeps the darkspawn away. How long this remains true is another matter," she admitted.

"Why did your mother save us?" Even more odd was how she knew they needed rescuing.

"I wonder at that myself, but she tells me nothing. Perhaps you were the only ones she could reach. I would have rescued our king. A king would be worth a much higher ransom than you," she pointed out.

With his brother dead, he was now king. And when word reached Denerim of Cailan's death, the missive would be read and recorded. "She did rescue the king," he murmured. "With my brother dead, I am next in line for the throne."

That she did not expect to hear. "You have surprised me and I stand corrected. Though, I do not know how mother could have known that. It would appear your rescue was an ironic twist of fate."

"Do you know if there were any more survivors?" Surely, some people have come forward about Loghain's treachery.

"Only stragglers that are long gone. Nothing but death and darkspawn reside in that valley now."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Then you have seen it?"

She folded her arms over her chest. "Yes. I had a good view of the battlefield. Darkspawn swarm over the dead and dying…feeding, I think. They also look for survivors and drag them back down beneath the ground. I cannot say why."

"Thank you, Morrigan," he said as he swung his legs over the side of the bed to rise. Heat rose into his cheeks when he realized he wore no clothing. He pulled the blanket from the bed and wrapped it around his waist.

"Blush if you must, but I did not mind the view," she smirked.

He cleared his throat. "Thank you for answering my questions. But I must dress and take my leave. I must find my wife."

"If it is your wife you seek then you need not look far, for she is here. She merely stepped away to take care of a personal matter. She has been unwilling to leave your side since she found you, but some matters," she grinned, "will not be denied regardless of intent. Dress. Join us outside; she will not be much longer."

As soon as she left, he slipped into his velvet lined mail, pulled on his over-tunic and buckled on his armor pieces. He saw his weapons leaning against the wall and slid the scabbards onto his belt and hooked the shield onto his back armor. While he missed the comfort of his silk clothing, this was far more preferable than his birthday suit.

The moment he stepped out the door her heard a squeal and a moment later his wife was hanging from his neck, her legs wrapped around his waist, covering his face in little kisses. His arms wrapped around her and he somehow managed to catch her lips for a proper kiss. "I was terrified when I knew you would go to Highever. I had no way of warning you. I didn't know if you were even still alive. It will be a long while before I let you leave my sight again."

She grinned. "Is that so? If I recall, it was you who left my sight. And you nearly died twice – not well done, husband," she teased. "Did you crave war so badly that you had to leave one to find another –and drag my brother into it as well?"

He blinked. "It wasn't like that. Duncan, a Grey Warden, came to Highever to find a recruit. He wanted me, but I refused. He took Dairren and Gilmore in my stead and promised my…parents that he would see Star and I safely to Craighorn Keep. When he mentioned the need for recruits at the keep, Berchan wanted to join. He is his own man, I cannot make that choice for him," he pointed out.

"I know," she released a slow breath and lowered her legs to the ground. "And you came here to find Fergus. Did you find him?"

"No," he said with a shake of his head. "But nor do I think he was in the battle. Cailan said he would not return until after the battle was over. Cailan – he told me who I was – who I _really_ was, not who I _thought_ I was. I've known him for years, but I never got the chance to know him as my brother. I won't make that same mistake with Alistiar."

"Make what mistake with Alisair?" Alistair asked. He had been glad to see the Teyrn up and had wanted to come over and check on him when he heard his name being spoken.

Kael was about to say something when he was surrounded by the Wardens he'd led up into the Tower, who were all clapping his back and talking to him at the same time. He held his hands up. "I'm fine…I'm fine. I was just getting some much needed beauty sleep," he assured them.

Tayln laughed. "Ha! You're the prettiest one here – I think you've had too much beauty sleep."

"Funny, Tayln." That was when he realized one face was missing. "Where's Dairren?"

The smile slipped from Lyrica's face. "He didn't make it. When we retreated to the top floor of the tower, he stayed behind to buy us time to bar the door."

That was unfortunate. "He hated being my father's second. He dreamed of more. He gave his life to fulfill a dream. He will be remembered as a hero. He would be content with that." He was not just paying lip service. He truly believed that Dairren died being the man he always wanted to become.

"Why save us? Why didn't you save Duncan or the king?" Alistair asked Flemeth.

"They had already fallen on the field by the time I arrived. It was happenstance that I even saw you in time, boy," Flemth countered.

Alistair ran a hand through his short crop of dark blonde hair. "Why would Loghain quit the field? Why betray us?"

Flemeth inclined her head. "Now _that_ is a good question. Men's hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature."

"And it is a question I can answer – at least in part. What does Loghain have to gain by killing the king? It would leave Anora, a daughter who has essentially always given ground to her father, as sole ruler. That would put him in a unique position to gain control of the throne. This could be all speculation on my part, but it seems logical to me. I spoke with Cailan at great lengths before the battle. Loghain did not approve of the king's growing connections with the Orlesians. I believe he is so blinded by his hate that he would do whatever it took to keep Ferelden out of Orlesian hands. And since most of the nobles sent their armies with the king, that only leaves four armies left in Ferelden. Eamon's, Gallagher's , Loghain's and Rendon's…and with Howe being friends with Loghain it begs to wonder if his timely attack on Highever was part of Loghain's plan all along. Diminishing Cailan's supporters and those that would oppose him."

"Are you saying he could go after Arl Eamon next? Alistair asked.

Kael nodded. "Eamon and Gallagher, yes. There can be no civil war if there is no one left to oppose him." He held his hand up. "Like I said, this is supposition on my part, but it is something we need to consider - because if it is true we may all be at risk when we leave the Wilds."

Lorianna placed a hand on her husband's arm. "Howe's army – or at least what there was of it at Highever is no more. I took knights with me when I went to Highever. Some of Howe's own army sided with us. We retook the castle. While their deaths were justified, it only weakens Ferelden more with the coming blight. We need to build an army and unite it behind a new king."

"How can you support Teyrn Loghain after what he did?" Alistair demanded.

Her eyes narrowed. "I would never support the man that killed Cailan! You don't know me, so I will forget that you ever said that. No. It is a man of Theirin blood that must take the throne."

Alistair shook his head. "I have no desire to be king."

"I wasn't referring to you. Meric had another son. A son raised as a noble. A son that he ensured would be second in line for the throne. A man that Cailan proclaimed to be king moments before he died. Kael Bryce Theirin is the proclaimed King of Ferelden. We have a king to stand behind, now we have to build an army out of thin air. I know my father would give his army to the new king. I also have no doubt Eamon will do the same. But that is not enough men to fight both Loghain and the blight."

Alistair looked at the Teyrn in shock.

"That is what I was referring to when I said I did not want to make the same mistake with Alistair. I only just found out that I was Meric's son and that he proclaimed me the next heir. I have known Cailan for most of my life, but I never knew him as _brother_ until it was too late. I don't want to see that happen with you, Alistair."

A slow grin spread over Alistair's face. "I – I have a brother. I mean, I knew I had a sister…but I have a brother. I never knew… I've always wanted a family and now I have a brother," he said, raising his voice on the last word.

Kael shook his head slowly with amusement. Annalynn had been right, Alistair was adorably awkward. For Alistair's sake and his wife's, he hoped she survived the battle.

Flemeth laughed heartily. "It would appear I saved the only two heirs to the throne. The irony is not lost on me."

"Army…What about those treaties we found?" Lyrica asked.

"We can make an army with those!" Berchan agreed.

Alistair's grin widened. "Yes, of course!"

Kael tilted his head in confusion. "What treaties are you talking about?" He hadn't heard anything about any treaties.

"Recovering the Grey Warden treaties was one of the missions I had when I took the recruits into the Korcari Wilds. The treaties obligate dwarves, elves and others to fight the blight."

Kael nodded. Things were starting to look up. Or at least they had a starting point. Better than pissing in the wind any day. "Then we have a plan. What of the other Grey Wardens?"

"Cailan already summoned them. They'll come if they can. But I expect Loghain has already taken steps to stop them," Alistair informed him.

Lorianna pushed a stray lock of pale honey hair behind her ear when a breeze caused it to tickle her cheek. "Outside the Tower I ran into a Grey Warden by the name of Damon, Elvie was his recruit, he said he would return to the Wardens and let them know about Loghain's treachery. So there is a chance they will learn the truth."

"Then we should go." He turned his attention to Flemeth. "Thank you, Flemeth, for everything you've done for us."

Flemeth waved her hand. "No, no…thank you, your Majesty. With a king, the Grey Wardens and an army my home may yet remain safe. Now, before you go, there is yet one more thing I can offer you."

"The stew is bubbling, mother dear. Will our guests be staying for dinner or not?" Morrigan asked, hoping for the _not_.

"Our guests will be leaving shortly, girl. And you will be joining them," Flemeth told her.

She was relieved the guests would be leaving so that she could have her life back. "Such a shame – what?" her head jerked around to look at her mother.

"You heard me, girl. The last time I looked you had ears," Flemeth teased with a laugh.

Kael shook his head. "I appreciate the offer, but if Morrigan doesn't wish to join us…"

"She is a talented mage who knows the Wilds and how to get past the horde," Flemeth pointed out.

"I do not doubt that and I would not turn down assistance, but I'm no Grey Warden to forcibly conscript someone against their will."

Morrigan glared at her mother. "Have I no say in this, mother?"

Flemeth pursed her lips. "You have been itching to get out of the Wilds for years. Here is your chance. As for you, your Majesty…consider this repayment for your lives."

"Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but won't this add to our problems?" Alistair asked. "Out of the Wilds, she's an apostate."

"If you do not wish help from us illegal mages, young man, perhaps I should have left you on the tower," Flemeth pointed out.

"Point taken," Alistair replied.

"Mother…this is not how I wanted this. I-I am not even ready…"

"You must be ready. Ferelden must be united against the darkspawn. A handful of people cannot do it alone. They need you, Morrigan. As much as you need them, I suspect."

Morrigan exhaled slowly. "I…understand." She turned their guests. "Allow me to get my things, if you please."

Lorianna turned when she heard excited barking. She grinned when she saw Legion followed by a herd of eighteen horses. She recounted. Eighteen…she recognized Minstrel and several others from Cailan's stable. She ran over to her hound and dropped to her knees to rub his ears. "You crafty pyjack!" she ruffled his grey-sable fur. And your timing couldn't be better!" She felt Kael's hand on her shoulder and realized she had not seen Taltos. She looked up at him. "Did Taltos come with you?"

He nodded. "He did. I have not seen him since the Tower."

"I'm sor-" She stood up swiftly when she heard more barking. Taltos was running towards them, though obviously favoring his left front leg.

Kael could not begin to imagine how his hound survived, but he was glad he did. He knelt down, lifted up Taltos' left leg and examined the enflamed wound. Infection was setting in.

Flemeth lowered herself to one knee and took the hound's leg from Kael. She ran one hand down the gash, just above its surface. She murmured ancient words of healing. A murky mist rose from the infected wound and then it knitted together; only a pink, jagged scar remained. She released his paw and rose. "Do not thank me for the healing. I only ask that you remember it." She turned towards her daughter when she returned from the hut. "Are you ready, girl?"

Morrigan's eyes flashed fire. "Dear, sweet mother, you are so kind to cast me out like this. How fondly I shall remember this moment."

"You will see things differently in time, girl."

"Farewell, mother. Do not forget the stew on the fire. I would hate to return to a burned down hut," Morrigan said, displeasure dripping from every word.

"Bah! 'Tis far more likely you will return to see this entire area, along with my hut, swallowed up by the blight!" Flemeth retorted.

"I…all I meant was…"

Flemeth's voice softened. "Yes, I know. Do try to have fun, dear."

Kael looked over the horses and shortened the stirrups on the smallest one for the dwarf. Berchan had his own horse and Gilmore could use the one he'd had on the ride from Highever. He gave Cailan's horse, Minstrel, to Alistair with a grin and assigned the rest of the horses to the others. There were far more horses than they had people to ride them, but they could be used to haul the supplies they would pick up in Lothering. Morrigan did not know how to sit a horse, so Tayln volunteered to share his mount with her. He mounted Taibor and inclined his head to Flemeth. His wife joined him at the front of the column and they left the clearing at a trot.


	4. A Thedas Tale Ch4 - Lothering

Dragon Age

A Thedas Tale

Ch 4 – Lothering

They travelled the Imperial Highway north to the West Road to reach Lothering. They camped for the night twice. Considering how dire the situation was the evening camp was enjoyably light. Talking over a campfire, getting to know who would be having their backs in battles to come. Morrigan was proving difficult for anyone to get a sense of kinship from. She answered questions, for the most part, but the tone of her voice left no illusion that she was being put upon and merely tolerating the questioning. She asked few questions in return as if she did not wish to know the people she traveled with. Her attitude was simply shrugged off by most of their group, not everyone was a likable sort, and most refused to take the time and effort needed to draw her out – not when there were so many more agreeable natured people they could talk to. Tayln and Lorianna were the only exceptions to that rule.

The easiest way into Lothering was via the bridge. The hard stone of the bridge was more jarring so they slowed their horses down to a walk. Kael stopped Taibor and held his hand up as men lying across the bridge rose. There were busted crates and a couple of dead bodies.

Lorianna looked over at her husband. "Highwaymen – I sense fear and ill will."

"Err…they don't look much like them others. The look fancy-like. Uh – maybe we should these ones pass…" One rather eloquent fellow told his boss.

The leader's eyes narrowed. It was obvious some of the party were nobles, their horses blanketed with crests and there were several warriors in the group. The group was far larger than the normal passerby and since the numbers weren't in their favor, it would be best to let this group pass by un molested. He motioned his men to the side to that the column of riders could get by.

"We cannot simply leave them here to attack the next unwary travelers – they seem to have no compunction about killing to get what they want," Lorianna pointed out.

"What? Those bodies? They were here when we got here. We didn't have the coin to spend on beds, so we just camped here," the leader replied.

Lorianna grinned. "I'm not sure I would believe that story even if I did not know better. You see, I have a rather interesting _gift_. I am a living lie detector and you, sir, have not spoken a single truth. Thus, you have the following two options: precede us into the village where you will be turned over to the guards or fight us and die. I recommend the first option, personally – your odds of surviving are marginally better. But in case you can't count. We have what amounts to three mages, three archers, four warriors and two mabari that would love to tear your throats out."

The leader held up his hands. "Wait..wait..wait…wait…surely we can work something out? You look like a reasonable woman."

"They are fools to get in our way. I say teach them a lesson," Morrigan put forth.

She tilted her head and smiled. "I am being quite reasonable. I'm offering you a better deal than you offered the people you killed," she said, waiving towards the bodies. "But I will offer you a third option. I want you to personally return all the items and money you have stolen to any traveler still left in Lothering and then you will turn the rest over to the chantry as a donation to help those in need and after that you will leave Lothering. This is your only chance of leaving here alive. And if I ever catch you hurting another Ferelden, you will die before you even know I'm there."

"Come on, my Lady, you can't leave us with nothing," he pleaded. "We have to eat."

She reached her hand out and slowly tightened her hand into a fist. "Then you can work for honest wages - check the chantry board. And I am leaving you with your lives…which is more than you deserve. Choose your option wisely."

The leader was gripped in some kind of power that was slowly cutting off his air. If she could do that then she _could_ kill him without him ever knowing she was there. It was a rather terrifying conclusion. "We will do as you ask. We will return what we have stolen and leave." He wheezed through his restricted throat.

She nodded and released him from her power. "Berchan, Tayln, Morrigan and Legion, please assist these gentlemen and ensure they fulfill their promises. If they don't or if they try to flee – please show them the error of their ways, because some people can be so hard-headed," Lorianna said with a click of her tongue.

"Why me?" Morrigan asked in disgust. Surviving was for the strong, not the weak and giving to the needy was a waste of resources.

"Because I thought you, more than anyone, would enjoy teaching them a lesson if they stepped out of line," Lorianna reasoned.

Morrigan blinked and then a small grin spread on her lips. "You are correct in that."

"I would have preferred the second option, but that will do," Kael teased as he led the rest of their group off the bridge.

"Wait!" Alistair told them as he dismounted. "One of the dead is a templar knight. I want to see if he has anything to identify who he is." He searched through the templar's clothing and found a locket and a letter. "I'll turn these in at the chantry. Someone needs to know what happened to him." He mounted Minstrel, sighing when the white horse farted again and joined the rest of his group.

It was obvious Lothering was struggling under the weight of the refugees. Tents and sleeping pallets were peppering the outskirts of the town. Lorianna reined Shadow in. "Go get our supplies. I have someone to see. I have to tell them what happened. I'll meet you back in town when I'm done."

Kael frowned. "I believe I mentioned something about not letting you out of my sight again. He released a breath. "Fine. Alistair and Elvie, go with my wife." He'd wanted to tell her to wait, they'd stop by when they left Lothering, but things had a way of happening and he couldn't deny her seeing them again…if Ann and Carver even made it back home…it might be the last chance she had to see them. And he owed it to his brother to see the woman he loved, if Ann made it home. Elvie, too, had a right to see her family, perhaps for the first and last time.

He turned to look behind them when he heard the heavy thundering of a horse's hooves. A huge, horned man approached them swiftly. His eyes narrowed but he held his hand out to prevent an escalation if there didn't need to be one.

"I have been following your trail since the Wilds. I was sent to protect the king," he said with a bow in Alistair's direction. He had been told the king always rode a white mount with his royal crest blanketed upon the horse. He had just arrived in Ostagar when he saw the horse among a herd and had hoped the horse would end up in the king's possession. It was a long shot, but it appeared to pay off. He looked from the man on the white horse to the man on the grey horse with a black tail and main. The man on the grey horse fit the description he'd been given, the man on the white horse was helmeted.

Alistair removed his helmet and settled it over the small hook on the saddle and looked up at the large, strange looking man astride the equally large gold-spotted white horse.

Morigan's eyes narrowed. "Mother has told me stories about the horned men from a distant land. Qunari, she called them. I, however, never thought to meet one."

Kadar looked at the mage. "I have never been a part of the Qun. They consider me Vashoth – or worse…they do not consider me qunari. He looked between the two men again, they looked a lot alike and he wasn't sure who he should be addressing. "I am Kadar Adaar from the Free Marches. I work with the Valo-kas mercenary company and I was hired to protect Ferelden's king and queen during the blight. I could not find him so I followed his horse. You are the king of Ferelden?" he asked the man on the white horse.

Alistair shook his head and waved his hands emphatically. "No! No…no I am not. That would be him," he said pointing to his brother.

His brows drew together. "But that is the king's mount?"

"It was..." Alistair said. "King Cailan died at Ostagar when Loghain betrayed us and pulled his army from the field. Kael was next in line for the throne. I am merely the youngest brother and have no desire to be king."

Kadar rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. "This isn't making a lot of sense. I was told specifically to protect Queen Lorianna and King Kael... I went to Denerim and noblewoman by the name of Anora told me she'd gone to Highever – or at least she did after I told her who hired me, prior to that she looked at me as if I'd lost my mind. I went to Highever and was told the king was at Ostagar and he rode a white horse, but they told me the queen was in Denerim – and I knew she was not. So, I went to Ostagar hoping to find them both and saw the king's horse running off with a small herd of horses. I followed."

"Who hired you?" Kael asked.

"Varric Tethras. He paid a great deal of coin to ensure the king and queen were protected. He said her highness was a close personal friend of his."

Lorianna laughed. Varric and his stories. She wished he wasn't right all the time. "Well, you have found us. I am Lorianna and this is my husband, Kael."

Kael studied the large qunari. He would not have thought a man with horns could be handsome, but then he'd never met one before. The qunari carried a large staff on his back topped with a wicked sword, so he was a mage. Why not? Surely a group full of apostates would never draw undue attention. "My wife was just going to see a friend. Please attend to her while we get supplies."

She patted Shadow's, black, arched neck when he pranced to the side. "Welcome to our ever-growing League of Paladins, Kadar," she said with a grin. "I'll introduce you to who you will be riding with. On the white horse is the Grey Warden Alstair, the man who would not be king, and on the chestnut with the four socks is Elvie, former Circle mage and Grey Warden recruit. And I am Lorianna…Theirin – I'm going to have to get used to that, Teyrna of Denerim and unofficial queen of Ferelden."

"Have I ever told you how witty you are, Lor?" Alistair asked glibly.

She batted innocent eyes. "Ah shucks, Alistair, you'll make me blush." She stretched up to kiss her husband and then reined Shadow around. "Let's go – the day's not getting any younger."

Kadar nodded to the king and turned Andris around to catch up with the queen who was already moving back down the bridge at a fast clip. At least now he would be able to fulfill his duty, but it would be much easier if they would remain together. Regardless, the queen was his primary consideration, though he'd protect both whenever possible.

Alistair's mind wandered while his horse followed Lor's. He tried to ignore the disgusting noises that seemed to occur whenever his rear feet hit the ground. It was almost as if Minstrel was being propelled forward with each new - err…break of wind. He would have wondered why the king would have accepted such an embarrassing mount, but he could feel the coiled power of the horse and had little doubt Minstrel was far faster than the average, heavier Ferelden mount.

Lothering. He knew that Ann's family was in Lothering, but he'd never thought to ask where in Lothering they lived. He did not dare to hope that she survived Ostagar. According to the witches only a few stragglers survived. It would hurt too much to hope she was one of those few stragglers. But Leandra and Bethany deserved to know what happened. He wouldn't leave Lothering without looking for them. He nudged Minstrel up next to Shadow. "May I ask a boon of you?"

Lorianna looked over at him and smiled. "You are my brother now, Alistair. Of course, you may ask me anything."

He had not considered that he'd gained a sister when he learned of his brother. Now he had two sisters and a brother. Not something he ever could have imagined working as a stable lad at Arl Eamon's. "Sister… _siiisssterrr_ " he stretched the second word out to feel it as he said it. "I like the sound of that. Anway, I need to find someone in Lothreing before we leave – well, two someones. There was someone…special to me at Ostagar and her family deserves to know what happened to her and her brother."

"Then we will find them, if they are still here," she said with a nod. "I'll ask my friends if they know of this family when we get there. What was your lover's surname?

"Hawke. I need to find Leandra and Bethany Hawke," he replied.

"Hawke?" Elvie asked in stunned surprise. "Leandra Hawke is my cousin. She ran off with Malcolm, the family tried to sweep it under a rug, and I was never told what happened to them after that. I wasn't even born when they left."

Lorianna grinned at her husband's thoughtfulness. So that is why he chose Alistair and Elvie to accompany her. He must have known they'd both have an interest in her friends. "Then we will find the Hawkes for both of you." She didn't want to say much because she wanted it to be a surprise, but she was heartbroken that she had arrived too late to find Ann and Carver at Ostagar and she did not relish being the bearer of such news, but she owed it to them.

As they approached the farmstead she saw a man chopping wood in front of the house. As she drew closer she realized it was Carver. He'd made it home. Maybe Ann had too. The ax tumbled from his grasp when caught sight of her, a smile growing on his lips. She jumped down from Shadow, ran to him and threw her arms around him. He swung her around like he had ever since he'd outgrown her and she laughed. "You made it home! I thought - " she shook her head and hugged him tighter. "It doesn't matter what I thought. You're here, that's what matters."

She was alive. He had hoped she had arrived too late; even so it would still have been dangerous. He had doubted the darkspawn would have left too quickly. "When I got back, my mother told us you were going to Ostagar. I feared you might have run into the horde. I am relieved I was wrong."

"You weren't wrong. I got there in time to see Cailan a moment before he died. It shattered my heart to leave him like that, but I had no choice. I had to find the new king, and build another army to fight the darkspawn."

"No pressure or anything," he teased.

"Carver – Ann…did she make it back too?" Alistiar asked quietly, barely able to breathe. Lor hadn't told him who they were visiting. But if their positions were reversed, he'd have surprised her too.

Annalynn burst from the door, winked at Lor as she passed her and ran straight for Alistair who was dismounting. She sighed softly when she was enveloped in his arms. "You survived. I searched for you until the darkspawn numbers overwhelmed us. It became obvious no one would survive the battle. I had to brow-beat Carver into leaving the field. We came back to warn our family. The darkspawn will spread and Lothering will be in its path. At the first sightings of the horde we will move north. Our mother has family in Kirkwall."

Leandra and Bethany followed Ann out the door. Leandra smiled. Her eldest had told her all about the young man that had captured her heart, a former templar no less. But if he could overlook her being a mage then she had no issue with him. She looked at the other woman that had come with Lor. "You have the look of an Amell," she told her.

Elvie smiled. "So do you," she teased. "I am Elvie Amell. My mother's name is Revka. You left before I was born, but it is good to see a cousin." She dismounted off Breker to give the older woman a hug.

"I miss your mother. Do you know how she fares?" Leandra knew it was a long shot, but she had to ask.

"No," Elvie said with a shake of her head. "My mother birthed five children – My father told me that sometime after my oldest sister was taken, my mother disappeared and he took us and left Kirkwall. He could escape the Amell world, but he could not outrun the blood in our veins. We were all discovered to be mages; templars took us away one by one to different circles. I was the last…the youngest; we made it to Ferelden, but…in the end, it did not matter. I was found and taken to Kinloch Hold. I haven't heard anything about any of them since."

"I – I wasn't aware any of that happened. It – it's not right. That was the fate Malcolm and I always feared. We could not bear to have our family torn apart so we did our best to keep away from towns. Lothering doesn't have too many templars assigned to it and they rarely leave town, but still…we are careful. Malcolm was able to train the girls both on how to use their magic and keep it hidden. Our family has been far luckier than most."

"Where is Malcolm? Is he in town?" Elvie inquired.

"No, my husband joined the Maker about three years ago. It is just me and the children until they leave to live their own lives. Until then, I will enjoy every moment with them." She reached up to brush the blonde hair away from the young woman's cheek. "You have a home here if you want it, Elvie."

Elvie smiled softly. "Thank you, cousin. Right now, I have an obligation to help with the blight, but if that offer is still good when it is over…"

"Do not be silly,' Leandra chastised with a grin. "You are always welcome in my home, wherever that might be. If the blight comes to Lothering, then we will go back home to Kirkwall. Find us there; there is plenty of room in the Amell Estate."

Alistair and Ann chose to stay outside when everyone else went into the house to talk more comfortably. Kadar was invited in as well, as the Hawkes were understandably curious about the qunari. He was a handsome man, even with horns, something even Bethany took note of. He had long, black hair he kept in a braid and silver eyes; his skin was warm, golden ash that was pulled tight over a mountain of muscle and sculpted features that were pleasing on any man. Loranna did not personally like horns on a man, but she could see his exotic appeal.

It took Bethany the longest to warm up to the qunari. Her best friends had been killed by another qunari in a fit of rage. He admitted to the unfortunate killings and been imprisoned. Bethany made it a point to walk by his cage every day. It did not bring her friends back, but there was satisfaction in seeing him caged. At least up until recently when she discovered no one bothered to give him food or water in two weeks. That he was still alive shocked her. Now, for the last week, when she visited she brought him food and drink. She had wanted him dead – not tortured. He had explained what happened and how he'd been mentally broken when he lost his sword. He knew what he'd done was wrong and turned himself in for judgment. She had not known he turned himself in, she'd thought he'd been captured. His plight had eased her pain and hatred, though she'd been unable to forgive him, for which he understood. But Kadar was nothing like the stern, hornless qunari in the cage. He was gorgeous as sin, lighthearted and charming, having never lived among the qunari and their rigid, narrow way of thinking. Her parents had raised her better than to paint all men with the same brush.

As much as Lorianna would have loved to have stayed longer, she would only allow herself a couple of hours. It was plenty of time for her husband to gather supplies, but not time enough for him to worry and come looking for her. Bethany had joined them for the ride back to town, sharing Elvie's mount.

With promises to return when they could, they mounted and rode back to town. "Are you okay?" she asked when she noticed Alistair was unusually quiet.

He continued riding in silence for a moment and then looked over at her. "I asked her to come with us. She was afraid to leave her family during a time of blight. I get that – but still…it hurt."

Yes, it would. "Then we will just have to make sure we end this blight quickly so you can get back to her."

"Yeah… maybe we will just ask the archdemon nicely to appear and it will," he muttered drolly.

She grinned broadly and nodded. "My thoughts exactly! We'll gather our army, blow the archdemon come-hither horn and then make it wish it'd never crawled out of the ground. Piece of cake."

His eyes sparkled. "Those little layered cakes with frosting? I just love those little cakes!"

She couldn't help but laugh. "Absolutely! Slathered in rich, creamy frosting."

He closed his eyes and smiled. "Frrroosting…mmmm."

Kadar looked over at Elvie and Bethany. "Is it always like this?"

The women looked at each other and broke out laughing. "Always," they answered in unison.

"You'll be joining in the banter in no time, trust me, she'll drag you into if you don't. And you won't mind one bit. There's something about her…" Elvie shook her head. "I can't – I don't know what it is, but you end up feeling…relaxed, I guess and comfortable around her. Just don't fall for her big guy, or you're going to end up with a broken heart."

His laugh was deep and booming. "That is one thing I do not have to worry about. Married ladies are not on the menu. I'm a casual, but finicky man. No married ladies, no prostitutes and no…women that are too experienced," he said as delicately as he could.

The girls laughed. "And how would you know if a woman had too much experience? Do you have some sort of secret divining magic?" Bethany inquired with a grin.

He chuckled. "That would be nice, wouldn't it? But, alas, nothing so grand as that. People talk. I listen. I'm very good at listening….and watching. A woman can give a lot away by the way she moves, the look in her eyes. I may miss out on…opportunities if a woman acts more experienced than she is, but," he shrugged, "I'd rather miss that particular adventure than end up visiting a healer afterwards."

Bethany scoffed. "Are you telling us you prefer virgins?"

He nearly choked. "What? Hell no. I'm not into torturing women. I would not put any woman through losing her virginity with me, unless she was closer to my size."

"So…if you fell in love with a virgin, you'd have her lay with another man before you made love to her?" Elvie asked curiously.

He blinked. "I – no," he admitted. "If I fell in love with someone, I would not wish them to touch another, just as I would not." One corner of his lips pulled up into a grin. "Then I just have to hope I do not fall in love with a virgin. Problem averted."

Bethany giggled. "Good luck with that."

His smile broadened and he moved Andris closer to their mount so there conversation could no longer be overheard. "It's been some time since I've enjoyed the company of a woman. Would you two be interested in some scintillating fun?"

Elvie looked behind her to catch Bethany's eye and then returned her attention to Kadar. "The both of us? Together?" She was in love with Cullen. But she was not naive. Cullen was a templar, she was a mage. She was not sure how much longer their affair could have gone on before one of them was caught and moved to a different Circle…or worse. He would always be her heart, she was not looking for another love, but maybe…what Kadar offered would at least keep some of the pain of loss at bay.

"I am perfectly capable of pleasuring the both of you…for as long as you are willing to let me. One time or many…anytime…anywhere – you have but to ask." His body and his voice were already showing the effects of their conversation.

Bethany leaned forward to whisper in Elvie's ear. "He smells clean, he's gorgeous and I'm curious about what it would be like to be with him. But he is very big…I'd feel better if I were not alone with him."

Elvie closed her eyes. She loved Cullen and she knew he loved her, but when she left he did not come with. He'd made his choice. He loved his job more than he loved her. "Okay. Maybe it will help me forget…everything. At least for awhile." She looked up at the qunari. "Get us a room at the inn and we will join you."

When they reached the town Lorianna saw Berchan's group and moved to join them. "Did the men give you any trouble?"

"No, much to my disappointment," Morrigan stated with disdain.

Berchan chuckled. "They returned everything, made a nice donation to the chantry and even went so far as to grab a few missions off the chantry board. At least for now, they appear to be working an honest man's wage."

"Legion dug up this key – though I have no idea what it's to," Tayln said as he handed her the key to look at.

She turned the key over in her palm, it was intricately designed, but she sensed nothing from it. She handed the key back to Tayln. "If Legion gave it you, hang onto it. I would imagine you are the only one who will be able to discover the secrets it holds." She looked over her paladins. "We'll stay here for the night and head out to establish a central camp in the morning. Eat, get any personal supplies you need, enjoy whatever the town has to offer, we'll all meet up after breakfast. I will try to see you before you leave, Bethany…Now, I am off to find my husband."

Kadar frowned; he needed to stay with her for now. He dug some coins out of his pouch and handed them to Elvie. "Get us a room. It would appear that I'm not off duty just yet. Once they are settled for the night, I'm all yours." He winked at the girls and nudged Andris after Lorianna.

-BREAK TWO-

After his wife left he led Gilmore, Syn and Lyrica over to the merchants. The debated over buying individual tents, but ended up settling for the more pragmatic two per tent. They ended up having to go to two vendors and finesse a lot of haggling to get all the tents and bedrolls they required. The bought out what dried goods the vendors were carrying. The tied the bedrolls on the back of the saddles and packed the tents and supplies onto three of the extra mounts. He left Taltos to guard the horses while they went to the tavern to catch up on the gossip that had spread through Lothering. People who had been drinking were far more likely to talk. And gossip, true or not, would at least give them the local political flavor.

Gus saw the fancy newcomers heading for the tavern. "If you're lookin' for beds, the tavern's already done full to burstin' with refugees. Damned chasind barbarian bastards are like to overrun our town," the elder grumped.

If the chasind are fleeing, then it wouldn't be long until the darkspawn reached the Western Hills. If the darkspawn arrived in numbers, even father Gallagher's men, the avvar and the Witches of the Hills will not be able to keep them at bay for long. There was nothing he could do, there were not enough of them to make a difference in that battle and right now he had to focus on Ferelden as much as it pained him to leave his Wulff parents to their own devices. "Is there no place left with beds?"

"Ya might try the inn – most folk can't afford the inn's prices – but ya don't look like refugees, ya might be able to afford it. The inn's over yonder," he said, pointing over at the inn.

"Thank you kindly. Right now, I'm just looking to find out whatever I can about what's going on. I've been out of touch for a few days," he told the older man. "I figured the tavern would be the best place to catch up."

'If'n it's gossip you're lookin' for, ol' Gus can help out. A Knight from Redcliff came through yesterday askin' everyone if they knew anything about the Urn of Sacred Ashes. Of course, no one knowed nothin' about any urn. He said all the Redcliffe knights were searchin' for it. Seems like an odd thing to do considerin' the darkspawn and all." He shrugged. "But what do I know?"

He was right, that was on odd thing to waste resources on in the wake of a blight. "Have you heard anything else…about Ostagar…or Denerim?"

Gus nodded. "Teyrn Loghain up and declared himself Regent, he did. But I don't rightly care whose butt is on the throne so long as they save Ferelden from the blight."

Kael tamped back on the cold rage that bit at his insides. "It is the Grey Wardens and the army that is going to back me that will save Ferelden, not Loghain."

Gus frowned. That wasn't like what he'd heard. "Some of Teyrn Loghain's men came through town, said them Wardens betrayed the king and Ferelden and they were lucky to escape with their lives. Why would an army back you?" he asked, scratching his head.

So Loghain would make the Wardens traitors to the crown. It was more than obvious the man had lost his mind. Without the Grey Wardens there could be no end to the blight. Well, Loghain would know soon enough that there were survivors of Ostagar and he also knew Loghain would likely try to silence any survivors. He needed Loghain's attention focused on him and not hunting down everyone that escaped his treachery at Ostagar. "Because I am Kael Theirin, next in line for the throne. Loghain is merely keeping it war for me, even if he doesn't know that yet. The Wardens betrayed no one…they gave their lives and died fighting next to the king to the bitter end. There is no doubt as to their loyalty; the same could not be said about others."

Gus blinked and then laughed. "Set a by-blow on the throne,eh? Ya do have that Theirin look about ya." He shrugged. "Guess you'd have more of a right than the Teyrn, but the Teyrn's a hero."

"He won't be by the time the truth comes out," he muttered. He withdrew ten silvers from his coin pouch and set them in the man's hand. "Thank you for your information. You've helped me a lot."

Gus' face lit up in a broad grin. "Like I said, yur Majesty, don't much care whose butt warms the throne. But thank ya kindly and beware the soldiers inside, they've been causin' trouble."

"What do you know of the soldiers? Have they said anything?" he asked.

"They was lookin' for someone before they started drinkin'. Hear they almost killed a man cause they didn't like his face." He grinned when realization dawned on him. "Ya do fit the description of the man they was lookin' for. Might be better not ta go in," Gus warned.

"Thank you for the warning, Gus, but someone needs to drive the soldiers out."

"Come on back to ol' Gus if'n ya need anythin'."

He inclined his head to the old man.

Gilmore frowned. That wasn't good at all. "It didn't take the Teyrn long to sink his claws into the throne. You realize it's going to be harder to take the throne back now that a Fereldon hero is entrenched on it?"

"Maybe, maybe not. A Landsmeet will have to be called. It will be up to the nobles to decide. The fact that there is proof that I'm to be the next king will help, both my wife and I are close to many of the noble families, Eamon will surely back me – along with his army and I've no doubt Anora will stand by my side." He frowned. "Well, maybe a small doubt. How much does friendship mean against the weight of a throne?" He shook his head. "I'll have to worry about that when the time comes. For now, we need to focus on gathering an army."

"I think I can help out with the dalish. They are not of my clan, but most of the clans have close ties through marriage," Lyrica put forth.

Syn nodded. "And I will go to Orzammar. I may be exiled, but they are my people and I will still have some friends on the inside, even if most cannot publically acknowledge me - much can be done behind closed doors. There is also a chance my father has learned the truth by now and my name will be given back to me. Either way, I won't let Bhelen get away with what he did."

"Sounds good. We will discuss the details later once we have a private camp," Kael replied as he opened the tavern door.

The commander looked over at the door when it opened and grinned as he rose from his chair. "Well, look what we have here, men. I think we've just been blessed."

Gilmore shook his head. "Loghain's men…that certainly explains why the soldiers were looking for you."

"Didn't we spend all morning asking about him and everyone said they hadn't seen him?" A soldier asked.

"It seems we were lied to," the commander stated.

"Gentlemen, surely there is no need for trouble. These are no doubt simply more poor souls seeking refuge," the sister said trying to calm things before it got out of hand.

"They're more than that. Now, stay out of our way, sister. You try to protect these traitors, you'll get the same as them," the commander warned with barely a look in her direction.

"Traitors? We did what the king asked us to do. We lit the beacon for reinforcement. Loghain quit the field with his army. So I ask you, who is the traitor?"Kael growled.

Fury filled the commander. "You dare speak of the Teyrn that way! He saved our lives that day; we would have died if we'd responded!"

"Of all the idiotic - Loghain couldn't even see the field from his position, that's why he required the beacon to let him know when to respond! He left the king to die so he could take the throne! That traitorous bastard will pay for his crimes against Ferelden!"

"Kill them all!" he commander snarled.

Kael tilted his head and grinned. He stepped into the commander and when the man's arm came up to block him he grabbed it and threw the man over his shoulder, stomped his foot on his chest, withdrew his sword and settled the point against the commander's neck. "Do you know how this will play out?" he asked softly.

"All right, you've won! We surrender!"

"Well, that was no fun," Gilmore griped.

"Sorry to spoil the fight, I didn't want to risk any of the locals getting hurt," Kael told him.

"Good, they've learned their lesson and there will be no fighting," the sister said in relief.

He looked down at the commander and noticed a drop of blood sliding down the man's neck a pulled up on his sword just a bit. "Take a message your false regent."

"Wh-what do you want to tell him?" the commander asked.

"I am Kael Theirin. I am coming for my throne _and_ to make him pay for his crimes against Ferelden!" He eased his sword back and stepped away from the commander.

The commander rose to his feet in a clank of armor. "Thank you for my life. I'll tell him right away," the commander turned and hurried to the door, his heart slamming in his chest. He hadn't even had time to lift his sword against the man. If the regent wanted that man dead, he could find someone else stupid enough to try. Of course, he wouldn't say it quite that way.

Kael turned to watch the soldiers leave and then gave his attention to the red haired sister who had been willing to fight alongside them. He'd never known of a sister to carry weapons. He wondered what the story was.

Lelianna brushed at a smudge on her gown. "I apologize for interfering, but I couldn't just sit by and not help. Is it true you are the king?"

"I am the unofficial king, declared so by my father, Meric , upon my brother, Cailan's, death. A Landsmeet must be called if I'm to gain the throne without civil war. I have no desire to tear the country apart during a blight," he told her.

Leliana inclined her head to him, just short of a full bow. "That is very generous of you and I'm glad you found it in your heart to offer those men mercy."

He chuckled. "I must admit that it was more than mercy that stayed my hand. I want Loghain focused on me rather than the survivors that escaped from Ostagar. The word of his actions needs to be spread and they can spread it further than I can alone. He will soon see that _I_ am a far greater threat to his power than they are."

Even his reasons for showing mercy were noble. He was not a man to hide. He would protect and he would take action and, it seemed, he would do so honorably. That is the kind of king Ferelden needed. And she wanted to help ensure he succeeded. The Maker demanded it. "Let me introduce myself. I am Leliana, one of the lay sisters of the chantry. Or I was."

Was? Interesting. She still looked like a sister, minus the dagger. He inclined his head. "It is good to meet you, Leliana."

"Those men said you lead Grey Wardens. If you are king, then I suppose that makes sense. You will be fighting the darkspawn, yes?" she asked. "I know, after what happened, you'll need all the help you can get. That is why I am coming along – the Maker wants me to."

He blinked and cleared his throat. "The fighting will be dangerous, but I suspect that dagger you wear is not just for show. And you are right; I'm in no position to turn down help. You are welcome to join us, if that is your wish,"

She smiled in relief. "Thank you. Give me a moment to collect my things."

"Wait." He withdrew some coins from his pouch. "See that hawker behind you and purchase some decent armor."

He as more generous than she would have expected. She pressed the coins back into his hand. "I was not always a lay sister. I still have my armor. I could not part with it, though I never thought to wear it again. I will be back shortly," she said before she hurried out the door. Her armor and bow were in her chest in the room she shared with the other lay sisters.

"We should get a drink and keep our ears open. There may be more to learn here," Kael said as he waved them over to a table. When the bar maid arrived they placed their order. As they listened they heard stories of bands of soldiers returning from Ostagar that were raiding homes and raping women as they passed through. The templars and town guards have been on watch ever since they'd heard what was happening. If he ever heard of any of his soldiers behaving in such a despicable manner he would see them publically flogged and put in the stockade for raiding and hung for rape. Soldiers should be seen as protectors not abusers of the land.

Leliana returned in her armor, bow and quiver over her shoulder and dagger at her hip. She joined them at the table, fielding questions the others flung at her with ease. It was obvious she was good with words, even while evading questions she did not wish to answer. He looked over at the door when a hush fell over the tavern. His wife and Kadar had just stepped into the bar. He grinned and rose from his chair. He could imagine Kadar caused a stir everywhere he went. He hugged her and then pulled her onto his lap while Kadar pulled another chair up to the table.

He told them everything they'd heard and how he was purposely drawing Loghain's attention away from the other survivors from Ostagar, making sure he was the man's primary concern. And then he told her about Leliana who had also joined their group.

She definitely approved of her husband drawing Loghain's focus. They would be prepared for anything Loghain threw at them, unlike the stragglers from Ostagar. "So another volunteers to join our League of Paladins." She winked at the red haired woman. "Good, because we have a lot to do and short time to do it in." She looked at the rest of the people at the table. "Sorry to break up your…happy hour, but you all need to get to the inn and purchase rooms. I doubt there's many left, so you'll have to share with someone. But better that than a bale of hay in the stables." She rose from her husband's lap and pulled him to his feet. "Let's go get our room, husband. I'd rather not make love to you in front of the stable hands," she teased.

He pulled her against him for a sound kiss that ended with applause. He gave her a slight nod and took her hand, letting her lead him out of the tavern amongst whistles and cheers.

Kadar rose to follow them out. Eager to get on with his own merriment for the evening. He intended to order dinner in so they would not have to leave the bed until morning. After the king and queen stabled their horses, purchased a room and headed up the stairs he asked the innkeep if a room had been purchased in Elvie or Bethany's name. She told him Elvie and gave him the room number, though she did not offer him a key. No matter, they'd let him in. He hurried up to the third floor and when they opened the door for him he scooped up a woman in each arm and kissed them each breathless. Yes, tonight was going to be fun for them all.

A couple of hours later, Bethany stretched, feeling the pull of muscles she'd not used in awhile. No matter, it had been worth it. Kadar was a talented, attentive lover. He never once let either of them lack for attention. And sweet Maker, his long tongue…she'd never felt anything like it before. She'd come three times and her body was sated and humming. She didn't even have time to feel awkward with another woman being there, he'd taken her mind off it before she could blink. And now she understood just why he said he never wanted to bed a virgin. Sweet hell, the man was hung like a horse…or nearly so. She was certain she'd be walking funny for days.

She rolled off of his mountain of muscles to slide back into her clothing. "I need to be getting home, but I'm glad we did…this. Perhaps, we'll do it again some time. She winked at her cousin and slipped out of the room to run straight into someone else in the dark shadows of the candle lit hall.

Gilmore grunted at the impact and gently took her arms to keep her from stumbling back. "Pardon me, my lady. I was just going to my room; I did not see you there." When she looked up at him he inhaled sharply. She was breathtaking. "You are stunning, my lady." He felt the heat creep into his cheeks. "I mean, I am Ser Gilmore MacLachlainn. Knight of Highever and Grey Warden."

Bethany was held speechless as she looked up into his brilliant emerald eyes that danced in the flickering light of the candles. She smiled softly once her wits came back to her. "I am pleased you find me stunning, handsome Ser Knight Warden. I am Bethany Amell-Hawke, simple farmswoman."

He chuckled. "It s my honor to meet you, Lady Bethany – though I can't believe there is anything simple about you. Please, call me Gilmore or Gil. Is that your room?" he asked with a nod at the door behind her.

"No…I was a…visiting a cousin I haven't seen for a long time." She glanced out the window, noting how dark it had become. "I was going to walk home, but it is not safe to walk so late. I will see if the inn has another room." Which was, indeed, what she was going to do. The bed she'd come from would not fit three - at least when it came to sleeping.

"I'm afraid I took the last room, our party was rather large. I would be happy to share my quarters with you – err… I'm an honorable knight, sweet Bethany. You may have the bed. I will make a pallet on the floor. You will be safe with me. Or I can walk you safely home, if you prefer," he offered.

She bit her lip. It would not be safe, even for a knight, to walk back to town alone, not right now with bands of soldiers and highway men preying on people fleeing their homes. "It is not safe for anyone to walk the roads alone at night. I would not see something happen to you on my account. If you are willing to share your bed, then I will accept. But I would like to get some supper first." She had little doubt that Kadar could easily eat her portion of the dinner that was late in arriving.

"Of course," he said and held out the crook of his arm for her. He led her downstairs to a table and watched her lean her weapon against the nearby wall as she sat down. The rest of their party had already either gone over to the tavern or retired to their rooms, which was fine with him. He was glad for the time alone with such a captivating woman. With the brighter lighting in the dining room he discovered she had dark blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He ordered something light so that she did not have to eat alone. "You mentioned you were a farmswoman, do you have a farmstead nearby?"

"I do…a few miles south of town. I used to dream of doing more as a child, but it has been a decent life," she admitted.

"Do you…uhh…have a husband, my lady?" he asked, trying to ignore the bloom of heat in his cheeks.

"Call me Bethany or Beth. My lady sounds so formal and we are having dinner together, are we not?" she teased. "No, Gil. I am not wed, nor do I have any suitors."

His brows rose. He had assumed as woman as beautiful as she would have been wed by now. "I find that hard to believe, my…Bethany."

She brought her hand to her lips to try to stifle the giggle, but failed. " _Your_ Bethany?" she teased with a grin. "Does that mean you are courting me?"

He cleared his throat. "I must be honest with you, I will not be staying here long, but if you would allow me to court you, I would return as often as I could."

She tilted her head. "You mentioned you were from Highever. Do you know the Couslands? Kael and Lor?"

He grinned. "I do. I squired under Teyrn Bryce and became a knight in the Cousland army. Kael and I…we grew up together. I am to assume you know them too?"

She nodded. "I do. I met Lor and Arlessa Staria about ten years ago. They passed through twice a year to visit Prince Cailan. Our families grew close over the years." She laughed softly. "My older sister, Ann, even asked her to stay at one point, since our brother, Carver, was much more agreeable when she was around."

"So I've noticed during their visits to Castle Cousland. Both she and her mother have that…calming effect on people." The glow of runes pulsed softly from the corner of his eyes. "That is an impressive weapon for a farmswoman," he said, nodding at the staff with a silver ball at each end.

She glanced over at her weapon, the runes softly glowing in the shadow along the wall. "My father and Lor both trained me and my siblings for battle. I don't much care for blood, so I chose a weapon that was less likely to cover me in…ick. It's not safe for a woman to walk the roads alone and I come into town every day to sell eggs and other produce."

"Ick…" he repeated with a grin. "You are right, it is less likely to cause…ick," he teased as he studied the runes more closely. "Those runes…I've seen some just like them on Elvie's …weapon. Are you-"

"Beautiful? Charming? Somewhat shy but incredibly clever?" she interrupted quickly. "Why, yes I am. Do you have issue with that?" she asked cautiously.

He blinked. It would not have been well done of him to ask her if she was a mage in a room that might have ears. "I grew up alongside a young woman with such qualities, so I do not believe that all…beautiful woman should be mistrusted just because they are…beautiful."

A soft smile accompanied the blush in her cheeks. "Then I give you permission to court me, Gil." When his right hand reached out to stroke her left hand, her gaze locked onto his in surprise. If a man touched her in sensitive areas, her body would come to life, but never had it done so over the barest and most innocent of touches.

The arrival of their food pulled her eyes from his and she moved back to give the servant room to set her tray on the table. Her supper was delicious, even more so because she did not have to cook or clean, the wine was sweet and the company was stimulating. They talked softly of their youth and the pranks that they'd both received and dished out. He ended up winning the game of shame when he told her how he and Kael made a friendly wager that maid Tia did not wear any small-clothes. Kael had been unaware of certain things about maid Tia and he'd said of course she did. They tied a mirror to a stick and stuck it under her skirt to discover she did not wear small clothes. Tia had turned around and propositioned Kael, but the boys looked at each other and took off running.

He told her that had won that round and Kael had to shovel horse dung while he sat in the shade sipping lemonaid. That was until Teyrn Bryce found out. After that, they were both shoveling horse dung, even as Teyrn Bryce laughed his head off. "We never saw maid Tia again – I think she was removed from service for propositioning Kael. She'd been ignored when she serviced the soldiers, but Teyrn Bryce did not tolerate the staff trying to bear Cousland offspring, much to Fergus' disappointment."

She giggled. "I can't believe you did that! Now that I know that boys do such a thing, I'm glad I wear pants."

He grimaced and his cheeks grew hotter. "I would never – I mean I was just a lad then…and she was no lady." He cleared his throat. "That doesn't excuse my actions."

"It's fine, Gil…I was only teasing you." She gulped down the rest of her wine and rose from the table. "Now, take me to your room," she said with a grin.

He looked around to make sure no one was close enough to have overheard her. He did not wish to sully her name with implications of impropriety. He dropped the money for the meal on the table and held the crook of his arm out to her. "Yes, ma'am." He led her up to the third floor, passing the room she'd come out of and unlocked his door. He stoked the fire to brighten the room and took a pillow and the extra blanket from the bed to make a palette on the floor.

She frowned. She didn't feel right taking his bed and she knew he'd never allow her to sleep on the floor. "That's not necessary, Gil. The bed is big enough for the both of us to share. I'm hardly some prissish miss who will scream at the sight of a man in his small clothes….provided, that is…you don't scream at me in the sight of mine," she teased with a grin. "Do we have a deal?"

He cleared his throat. "I will try to keep the screaming to a minimum, my…Bethany."

"Good!" she said as she slipped out of her tunic and pulled down her pants. She folded them neatly and then crawled into bed.

He stood there blankly for a moment until he realized he was staring. He turned away to unbuckle his armor and remove his boots. He pulled off the padded underarmor and made a quick grab for his small clothes when they came down with his underarmor pants.

She grinned at the sight of a full moon under firelight. The man had a nice backside. Correction…her man. He was, after all, courting her. She never would have thought she'd meet a man she liked…a man that didn't care if she was a mage…a man that set fire to her body with the slightest touch. It was surreal that this was even happening to her. She shivered in the cold bed and turned her back to him so he wouldn't catch her looking.

He settled next to her and turned away, making sure there was space between their bodies. It didn't take long for him to feel her shivering. Maker give him strength. With slow release of breath he turned over and pulled her up against him to share his body heat with her.

She moaned and snuggled into his much needed warmth. His hand had splayed over her belly to pull her towards him. She covered his hand with hers before his gentlemanly nature required him to withdraw it. "You are so warm," she murmured. The feel of him against her sent heat pooling down to her groin. With her free hand she pulled her chemise up so that the warmth of his hand settled against the cool of her belly. She grinned at his soft groan. "Are you going to warm a lady up or let her remain cold?"

She did not know what she was asking of him. Or maybe she did, it was hard to tell. But he didn't see her as some common wench good for a quick tumble. He wanted to see if they could have something more than that. What was decent for a lady and what was not warred within him. In the end, he could not deny her request. He slowly rubbed heat into her belly with circular motions, working his hand up her rib cage to just below her breasts. When she lifted his hand and settled it over her cold breast he sucked in a harsh breath. Her breast overflowed his hand, the tight bud tickling his palm. "Bethany…" he murmured, barely able to get her name out.

"I'm cold, Gil. So cold." And she was…at least on the outside, what he was doing to her on the inside was a whole other matter. She felt his hand tentatively rub warmth into her breast. She moaned as coarseness of his palm rolled over her nipples. She cried out softly when she felt the scrape of his teeth and the flick of his tongue against her neck. She rolled over, pressing her breasts into his chest to give him access to her mouth. The stroke of his tongue against hers undid her; she was lost to the kiss in a way she could never have imagined. Her need for him made her more bold than she'd ever thought she'd be. Her hand slid down his chest and past the flat of his belly to untie the stays of his small clothes.

A ragged breath slipped from his lips at the feel of her fingers caressing his thick arousal. He pulled back and stroked her cheek. "Are you sure? I don't want you to have any regrets later." He groaned and sucked in a breath when she gripped him.

"The only regret I will have is if you do not make love to me, Gil. I want this memory to cherish while you are away from me….and my body burns for you…only you…" she admitted.

He rolled off the bed to let his small clothes slip down his legs to pool on the floor while she removed her chemise and panties. Her breasts were as bountiful and beautiful as he thought they'd be. His gaze lowered to the juncture of her thighs, her dark blonde curls framing glistening petals. He swallowed hard, crawled onto the bed and pulled her on top of him. His mouth claimed hers with a desperate hunger. His hands slid down her back to cup the soft mounds of her backside. He broke the kiss and pulled her upwards so he could draw her nipple into the heat of his mouth.

Her soft cries of pleasure sent blood pooling into his arousal. He slowly pulled her up his body as he kissed his way down her ribs and over her soft, flat belly. With a final tug he had her just where he wanted her. He kissed her inner thigh and then slid his tongue between damp folds to find the hidden treasure within.

With her hands pressed against the wall for support she gave herself up to the magic of his lips and tongue. The pleasure that rippled through her was far more intense than anything she'd ever felt before. She was too overwhelmed to keep her cries soft; they tore from her lips, raw and real. His hands slid up her body to stroke and caress her breasts as the pleasure built up inside her. "Gil…she moaned as tottered on the brink.

His hands trailed back down to grip her hips and hold her tighter to him. He groaned and his shaft jerked when her body stiffened; he increased his movements to push her over the edge. Her ragged cry was more beautiful than any lute. When her release ebbed he lowered her down his body and slid slowly into the heat of her still throbbing core.

He pulled her down against him and rolled her onto her back, making love to her until they both fell into an exhausted sleep.

-BREAK THREE-

They all met up downstairs for breakfast. They were surprised to see Ann come down the stairs with Alistair. There were knowing looks and grins, but no one said anything that would embarrass the couple. Though, likely a few had to bite their tongues to keep them still.

Alistair explained how he'd gone to the chantry to turn the templar amulet in and found out two important pieces of information. One, that Bann Ceorlic took his soldiers to follow Loghain to Ostagar, abandoning Lothering with nothing more than a handful of templars to protect it and two, Arl Eamon has fallen ill and that was why all the knights have been sent out to find the Urn of Sacred Ashes, to heal him. "We need to go to Redcliffe as soon as possible."

"Damn it! I knew Loghain would try something. But I had to hope otherwise." He looked over at his wife. Due to proximity, her family was closer to Eamon that his own, he gave a slight nod to her and looked back over at Alstair. "Did you find out anything more about the Urn?"

"Only what was said in Ser Henric's note. There is a Brother Genitivi in Denerim that is said to hold the key to finding the Urn. It is a place to start, at any rate."

Kael nodded. "Then we shall see if we can find this Urn before visiting Redcliffe. There is little we can do for Eamon if magic cannot cure his illness." He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Our first step is to find a somewhat central location for camp. I'm thinking in the northern part of the Bannorn. South would put us in the path of the horde. We're not ready to face the horde. The camp would put us strategically between Denerim and Orzammar. The ride to the dalish and Redcliffe will be a bit longer, but our camp must remain out of the path of the horde for as long as possible. We will discuss everything in detail once we've made camp."

Breakfast was quiet, everyone deep in their own thoughts. Kael pushed his plate away. He looked at Gilmore and Bethany. The looks they'd been giving each other were hard to miss. "Alistair and Gilmore, make sure Ann and Bethany get back home safely. We'll gather any remaining supplies we need and await your return."

Bethany looked at her sister and squared her shoulders. "I'm staying. I'm sorry, Ann. This is something I need to do. I know you and Carver can protect mother. I will come and see you in Kirkwall when I can, but for now – this is where I need to be."

Annalynn was stunned. She'd always figured Carver would be the first of them to leave. He had a driving need to be his own man and he would not see that he already was. But it was the last thing she expected from her little sister. "You are coming back with me to tell our mother?" She did not want to be the bearer of that bit of news.

Bethany grinned. "It would be easier to let you handle that, but I'll go. It is my decision and I should be the one to face the music."

Annalynn nodded. "Precisely so."

After breakfast, Alistair and Gilmore left with the Hawkes. Kael purchased another tent, but there were no more stores of dry goods left to purchase. They would simply have to hunt. He gave his mother's horse, Ranger, to Leliana, since Dairren would no longer have need of it and he'd already given Reager, his father's chestnut, to Bethany to ride, since Duncan no longer needed him.

In less than a couple of hours, Alistair, Gilmore and Bethany returned, though Bethany was somewhat subdued. It was likely hard for the young woman to leave her family behind. "Does everyone have what they need from Lothering? I do not know if we will make it back before the horde advances. Bethany – is your family preparing to leave?"

"Yes," she said with a nod. "But there is something we need to do before we leave. There is a qunari imprisoned here. He turned himself in after murdering my best friends and their family. He was left in a cage to starve or fall to the darkspawn, whichever came first. I cannot forgive him for what he has done, but I do not think anyone should be left to die like that."

Kael blinked. "Did you wish for me to kill him?" he asked uncertain what she wanted to have happen.

She frowned. There was no good solution, but sometimes one had to choose the best of the worst. "A week ago, certainly. Now? No…but perhaps you can make use of him. I do not like him going free, but the alternative is too horrendous to think about. He turned himself in because he knows that his grief was no excuse and it was how he chose to atone. But, maybe he can atone by risking his life for a better cause. The defeat of the darkspawn."

He swung up onto Taibor's back. "Show me the prisoner."

She nudged Reager's ribs and led them to the cage just outside of the town's gates. A cage that would only allow him to sit or stand, the stench of urine and feces was nauseating. The stench was not as bad before she'd started feeding him again. She could not imagine the indignity of being forced to relieve oneself in front of any that passed by and then having to live next to that same filth.

Horses fanned out around the caged man.

"I will not amuse you any more than I have the other humans. Leave me in peace," Sten told them with little emotion. That was when he realized it was not just a large group of humans, there was a dwarf, two elves and… "Saarebas! No..." he did not have the stance of a qunari nor was he properly contained and handled. "Vashoth mage…shouldn't he be locked away in a Circle somewhere? Isn't that what you humans do to your unwanted mages?"

"I think we should leave him to the darkspawn," Morrigan stated. "Surly, they will wish to hear his gentle words."

"That is what I'd expect you to say," Alistair shot at her.

"Or perhaps you can release him and put Alistair in the cage," Morrigan shot back.

"Hey!" Alistair said with a frown.

Kael shook his head and ignored them. "Will you have an issue with him?" he asked Kadar.

Kadar grinned. "Me? I have no issue with him; he has an issue with me. Though I doubt anything will come of it. He may be wary of any mage, but we are beneath his notice for the most part."

"I am Sten of the Beresaad – the vanguard – of the qunari peoples."

He inclined his head to the caged qunari. "I am Kael Theirin, heir to the Ferelden throne. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Stens' brows rose. "You mock me. Or show manners I have not come to expect. It matters little." He looked at the dark blonde human that had been kind to him, though she had little reason to do so. "You are leaving with them," he stated. "Then I will die soon enough. I suggest you leave me to my fate."

Leliana frowned. "To be left here to starve or to be taken by the darkspawn…no one deserves that, not even a murderer."

"Are you interested in seeking atonement?" Kael asked.

"Death will be my atonement," Sten replied matter of fact.

Kael shook his head. "Dying in such a manner atones for nothing. Indignity is not atonement. I can offer you the chance of true atonement, were you willing to join our fight against the darkspawn."

"The darkspawn? Are you a Grey Warden then?" he inquired.

"No," Kael stated with a shake of his head. "It s my duty as king to defend Ferelden against the blight, as it was my brother's before me. And I will aid the last of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden to see it done."

Sten looked over the large group of people. He was not sure of the rest of them, but the man who would be king had a strong bearing and the woman at his side held a power he could not understand. "If you can ensure my release, I will fight at your side."

Kael moved Taibor closer to Andris. He handed some coin to Kadar. "Go purchase Sten some armor…and a weapon. If it fits you, it should fit him."

Kadar nodded, backed his mount from the group to circle around it and head back into town. Kael had been right; it would not do to frighten the townsfolk with the qunari's release.

Lorianna dismounted, pulled her lightsaber from her magbelt and ignited it. She ran the molten, golden blade over the lock's bar to melt it and the door swung open.

Leliana laughed. "I could have picked it."

"You could have," Lorianna said with a grin, "but I wanted to ensure the cage wasn't used again. It is inhumane," she pointed out.

Sten blinked. What he saw was not possible. That a sword could be made of light and melt steel as if it were butter. "That sword…"

"It is the sword of my people. It is a part of who and what I am," Lorianna explained.

"I understand." He did not understand how the sword functioned or what it was made of, but he understood the significance. "My sword was a part of me. I did not handle its loss well."

Tayln and Gilmore removed the supplies from the largest horse onto the back of a smaller one. Sten was not suited to sit a small horse. When they were done, Tayln handed the reins of the large, liver chestnut to Sten. "His name is Thorn, because he can be a bit of a pain."

They looked over when they heard the clanking of armor. Kadar had returned, armor tied down to Andris' back. Kadar swung his leg over his mount's neck and slid to the ground. He untied the armor and set the pieces on the ground and then tossed padded underarmor on the stack. "I thought you might find the underarmor more comfortable than the sack-cloth you are wearing."

"Thank you," Sten bit out, not appreciating the fact that he needed to thank the vashoth mage. He pulled off the sack-cloth shirt and put on the underarmor. He looked down at his pants.

Kael saw his dilemma and he appreciated that the man did not just pull down his breeches. He whistled and twirled his finger in the air. Everyone turned their horses around to form a curtain of horseflesh that would give the man a bit of privacy.

Sten appreciated the gesture. He quickly lowered the sack-cloth drawers and pulled on the padded bottoms. He stepped into the boots and buckled the armor into place. "I am presentable."

Kadar unstrapped the large greatsword and handed it, scabbard and all, to the qunari. The scabbard, itself, was uniquely made. It covered only the back, the sides and the bottom foot of the blade. It had a leather strap that fastened just below the hilt to keep it in the scabbard. It looked as if it could be released by one hand and easily pulled from the sheath.

Sten slipped the strap over his shoulder, adjusted the greatsword across his back diagonally and the buckled the strap across his chest to hold it in place. From what he could te0ll, it looked to be a finely crafted weapon; he would examine it more closely and see to its care once they made camp. Regardless of its quality, it was the only weapon he had and he would have to make do. He mounted Thorn and looked to the leader.

Kael nodded to Sten and turned to head to the bridge to leave Lothering behind. As they approached the bridge they saw a large group of maybe ten men. The men looked at each other and ran back towards Lothering. He guessed they didn't find whatever they were looking for…or perhaps they did and realized they'd bitten off more than they could chew. He'd suspected they were after the bounties on their heads. It was good they'd chosen to run instead.

He heard someone shouting as he climbed the bridge's ramp. Darspawn. He reined Taibor in and swung out of the saddle. He ran to the top of the bridge, flung his dagger at the hurlock alpha and faced the others with sword and shield in hand. His wife's lightsaber tumbled the head off a hurlock and magic and arrows took the remaining darkspawn out before he could put sword or shield to work. He hooked his shield back on his backplate and slid his sword back into its shield before bending down to retrieve his dagger. He wiped the dagger on the darkspawn and sheathed it before he turned to face the dwarves that had been under attack.

Bodahn wiped his brow in relief. "Mighty timely arrival there, my friend. I'm much obliged."

He inclined his head to the dwarf. "I am glad we could assist."

"The name's Bodahn Feddic, merchant and entrepreneur. This here's my boy, Sandal. Say hello, my boy."

"Hello," the younger dwarf replied.

Bodahn looked over the impressive, well armed group. "Road's been might dangerous these days. Mind if I ask what brings you out here? Perhaps, we are going the same way?"

"I am Kael Theirin, next in line for the throne. For now, we will be setting up camp. Then we will round up an army to defeat the blight and take back my throne."

Bodahn blinked. A king no less. A king's army, which he looked well on the way to starting, would need supplies and Bodahn intended to be the dwarf to do it. "As you can see," he said, pointing back to a dead ox, "the blighted creatures killed my ox and turned over my wagon. If you could assist me, I think we could come to an agreement."

Lorianna raised her hand and righted the wagon. She pulled coins out of her pocket and settled them on the older dwarf's palm. "I am Lorianna…Theirin. Go to the stable. They have a plow horse they are selling to pay off its owner's debts. It is big, sturdy and should serve you well, Bodahn."

Bodahn looked down at the coins speechless. "I – I did not expect such generosity." He blinked when a few of others from the party started picking up spilled crates and putting them back into the wagon. "I'll go see about that horse and meet you at your camp."

Kael frowned. They were just as likely to be attacked again traveling alone. "We will wait, you can travel with us. We'll make sure you get to the camp safely."

"I'm much obliged, your Majesty. My boy and I will be right back."

He grinned when he watched the two dwarves run down the bridge's ramp as fast as their little legs could carry them.

"Are you sure that is wise?" Morrigan asked. "Letting them join our party?"

"We are going to need supplies. With that wagon, they are far more suited to carrying large quantities of supplies and thus save us many trips to local towns. And we can always send the hounds with them to ensure they come and go safely. I believe, for the time being, that it is a wise investment," Kael told her.

After the dwarves returned, Bethany helped them harness the horse, since she was familiar with the process, and they began their trek to the northern Bannorn. On the early evening of the second day of travel, Kael found the spot he was looking for. It was a large clearing with a small river nearby that had a small, rock-pool they could use for bathing and laundering. The men began setting up tents and creating a large corral for the horses while the women started a central fire, rubbed the horses down and hunted for dinner.

Morrigan – well, Morrigan didn't join the other women. She built a fire in a back corner of their camp.  
She blinked when Tayln stopped his other duties to put her tent up without a word and then went back to working on the corral. She watched him for a moment and then shook the stupid, fanciful thoughts from her foolish head. He was worse than any of them, invading her space. At first she grumped to him about it, but that served no purpose. Then she ignored it, but now, after all this time on the road with him, she realized she'd come to expect it…want it even. And that did not sit well with her.

It didn't take long for her to smell the scent of roasting meat. Her belly gave an undignified growl, but she settled on a log and pulled out a pouch of dried fruits and nuts. She didn't feel like cooking today. She sat a horse by herself today, a buckskin beast with a mane and tail with hair as dark as her own. She was sore in areas she didn't like to think about, without the added comfort of Tayln's thighs to support her more delicate areas.

She looked up when Lorianna arrived bearing two plates of food. That was another that would not leave her in peace. What she did not understand was that there was a strange comfort in the would be queen's presence. Almost as if a cloud of peace followed the odd woman around. She knew her mother had spoken with the woman at length, but her mother rarely told her anything. It never stopped surprising her when people did kind things for her, especially since she did not go out of the way to be nice any of them. "You have my thanks," she said when the woman handed her a plate and joined her on a log opposite the campfire.

"You are welcome to sit with the rest of us, you know. You are a part of our team, Morrigan," Lorianna reminded her.

She pinched off a small piece of meat and chewed it slowly. She swallowed and looked over at Lorianna. "That is…kind of you to say, but I am more…comfortable here. I – I have little experience being around quite so many."

"Do you prefer to be alone then – I mean overall? Would you live as your mother does in a hut out in the middle of nowhere and be content?" Lorianna asked curiously.

She shook her head. "No...no – I…that is not what I meant. Mother was right when she said I've been itching to get out of the Wilds for a long time. I have never enjoyed living as we do – it's just the way it was. Now, I am not alone and I do not know what to do with it. I'm different. I do not believe as others do. I'm a mage. One of those alone is enough to cause mistrust, and I am all of those," she admitted.

Lorianna lowered the pheasant leg bone onto the plate. "I understand that. I am different. Far more different than a mage and there are only four people on this planet with my beliefs. My mother, two of my siblings and myself." She smiled at Tayln when sat down next to Morrigan on the log. She noticed the young woman did not move away from the elf. Interesting. "The only real difference between us is how we present ourselves. I dress to blend in with my station…though I refuse to wear dresses so I do stand out some. But the way you dress makes you out to be vastly different to the point where many will fear you and not bother taking the time to get to know you. Perhaps, you prefer it that way, but I think…I think it is more to keep people away so you do not have to risk getting hurt. And I understand that too, I went through much the same as a child – because of how very different I was and fearing what would happen if those around me found out what I was."

Morrigan frowned. She was getting far too close to truths she didn't even like examining herself. "Your life is nothing like my life! You have no right to compare us! Mother told me of the men she took to her bed and used up – told me that would be expected of me as well. So don't compare our lives!"

She felt pain and anger and could not imagine what growing up under Flemeth would have been like. She liked Flemeth well enough, at least based on the time she had with her, but being a friend is a lot different than being an impressionable young girl raised under her. "You are right, I did not grow up with Flemeth as a mother, but my own mother was very different in her own right." She looked over at Tayln, but decided it didn't matter. Whoever didn't know about her would know soon enough due to their close proximity. "I will tell you what I told your mother about who and what I am, but the story is not believable," she said with a shrug. "My mother came from the stars in a spaceship – or airship, you might say. The sky tore open, likely before you were born, but your mother may have mentioned that since it was so terrifyingly remarkable. When the sky tore, my mother's airship was sucked through to this world. Thedas. The ship crashed – she survived because she was able to shield herself with her power. The Arl of Western Hills found her, fell for her and married her. But it's not just where she came from that made her different, it was what she was. Similar to mages, there are a group of people with powers where she came from. They are called jedi – or sith, if they become dark, twisted…monsters. The closest thing I could compare it to is an abomination, though it is their own dark desires that turn them – not possession." It was the closest thing she could come up with, even if it wasn't the most accurate.

"Like mages, the possibility of being born a jedi could be more prevalent within family lines, but from what I understand, it's far more rare to become a jedi than to become a mage. Jedi were trained in specialized academies, not unlike the Circle, I suppose, but they had no…jailors. Then again, they have… _we_ have no connection to the fade. We are no more likely to get possessed than a mundane. But we would be viewed with the same distrust as a mage, because we are the unknown and powerful - that would make us feared. So, yes, my mother came from…elsewhere. Yes, I've had to hide what I can do and who I am from all but a very few. Yes, I understand what it is like to have to look over my shoulder and worry about people finding out about me. And yes, I have my mother's beliefs; I hold no faith in religions or Gods. We are as much the same, Morrigan, as we are different – and regardless what we think of ourselves, if the world were to find out about us, it would paint us with the same brush."

That was quite the story and it had been unexpected. Her mother had told her their conversation was an exchange of information and it didn't concern her. And yet, she offered nothing in exchange for what Lorianna had told her. Perhaps, she'd told Flemeth far more than she told her, but what she'd told her had been enough. And it was hard to believe. Ships that traveled the stars? "Mother spoke of the tear in the sky once, when I was a child. It brought fear to even her heart."

Growing up in the alienage, Talyn's world was different than what most people lived – but the idea that people lived out there in the stars…their lives unlike anything he could imagine. "Thank you for trusting me, your Majesty. What you have told me will go no further," he assured her.

She smiled but felt it might have come off a bit wan. This, what she was doing, had the means to go very wrong. The more people who knew about her, the greater chance that she would be discovered. And the fallout may be far worse than even a would be queen could handle. "I would not have told you, Tayln, if I did not trust you. You are a good man. I am proud to have you with us and proud to call you friend." She rose. "I have a husband I miss. I will see you both later."

Morrigan looked at Lorianna thoughtfully as she walked away. Morrigan did not think she was a good woman. In fact, she wasn't even sure if she was capable of being a good woman or what a good woman was. But she watched…and she listened…and she remembered. Outside of Sten, the people around her enjoyed each other. They seemed to gain strength with the bonds they were forging together. Flemeth had taught her that compassion, caring…love – they were all weaknesses and unneeded hamperings. But was that true? She loved her mother, in her own way, but that did not mean she would allow her mother to define her. She had much to think on. For now, there was something Tayln could do for her. His flirting, his beauty, his willingness to hear her out, his gentle, but brief, touches had kindled something within her – something only he could quench.

She took his empty plate and set it on top of hers near the fire. She took his hand and rose. That he was no more than an inch taller than her pleased her. He could look her in the eyes not lord over her. With nothing more than a look of need and a small giggle she led him into her tent.

Lorianna grinned when she looked back to see them entering the tent together. Tayln would be good for Morrigan. Despite the hardship and tragedy he'd faced, he had a good heart. Before she returned to her husband she stopped off to find out how capable of a rune's crafter Sandal was. Once she was assured he was one of the best she explained that she was looking to have the archer's quivers inscribed with a horn o'plenty rune.

Sandal clapped. "Enchantment!"

"My boy can make that rune. Normally, it would be quite expensive, but you have your discount." Bodahn assured her.

She was hard pressed not to roll her eyes, but she smiled, nodded and returned to Morrigan's tent before too much could be happening…she hoped. "Sorry to bother you, Tayln – but toss out your quiver. I'm going to have it enchanted." A brief moment later it was tossed through the slit in the tent and then she heard a moan. She chuckled, picked up the quiver and returned to the main fire. "Everyone that uses a bow or crossbow – even if it is not your main weapon, take your quiver over to Sandal. He will be enchanting them. So long as you have a single arrow in the quiver, the quiver will refill." As Lyrica passed her, she handed Tayln's quiver to her. "If you can please see that Sandal get's this one too."

After everyone returned to the fire, she smiled at the laughter, ribbing and small talk. She wondered if this would be the last night they had together like this. She noticed that Leliana eyes kept returning to Kadar, who was busy flirting with all the girls. Kadar was a casual man and she suspected whatever Leliana might have been before, that she was not a casual woman now. "Give me a moment," she murmured to her husband as she rose. "Kadar – I need a word with you, please."

Kadar smiled at the women and then rose. He followed her away from the campfire. "What can I do for you, your Majesty?"

She smiled and shook her head. "I do not think we need to stand on formality out here in the middle of a secluded forest," she told him. "Lorianna or Lor is fine, but I didn't call you over here for that. What are your thoughts on love and monogamous relationships?"

He blinked and his mouth fell open. That he hadn't been expecting. He cleared his throat and rubbed his small, pointed ear. "I have nothing against love, I've just never had the pleasure of finding it before and I'm certainly capable of being monogamous, but few have asked it of me." He shrugged. "I certainly won't bring it up if they do not," he said with a chuckle. "Why do you ask?"

"I asked because I was curious if you would be willing to give up your wicked ways for awhile to see if you can find something more rewarding." Men really could be dense.

His brows drew together. "I've talked with most of the women here and they are either taken or they are only interested in…." but there was one woman he'd not spent much time with. She hadn't seemed interested.

She placed her hand against his cheek as his face turned to look at Leliana. "I see you figured it out. She watches you when you are not looking. But she is not a casual woman and has no interest in being one of your dalliances. I've only said anything so that you would know that you had a chance at something more if you were interested in such a relationship. But I will ask in return that if you are not willing to give her more, then stay away from her. She does not need her heart broken again." She patted his cheek and returned to the fire to settle next to her husband.

Kadar returned to the three women he'd been flirting with, but his eyes kept betraying those flirtations, as they continuously returned to the red head. Was it because he was told to stay away from her? Or was the thought of possibly having something more actually appealing to him?

Syn grinned and poked his very heavily muscled, broad chest. "You should go talk to her, Kadar." Just because she wanted to see what that tongue could do didn't mean she couldn't wait. If Leliana shot him down it would be soon enough to play. And if she didn't, then she couldn't miss something she'd never had. It wasn't like she could actually make love to him. He'd impale her and not in a good way. But that tongue….

That was all it took for him to give the three women an apologetic smile and rise to join Leliana on her side of the fire.

Leliana felt the heat rise in her cheeks. It wasn't like she was a virgin, but something about him made her feel like it and it was disconcerting. "If you are thinking of adding me to your growing throng of women, you are wasting your time."

All right, he deserved that. He smiled roguishly at her. "And what if I told you that isn't what I wanted to do?"

She released a slow breath and stared at the dancing flames for a moment. "Then what do you want?" she asked as she turned to look at him.

"Will you go for a walk with me? It won't be too dark, I can create a wisp of light so that we don't walk into trees," he teased. He held out his hand.

She looked at the hand and then over at the three women. When they nodded she took his hand and let him lead her from the main camp. He raised his hand, mumbled something that made no sense and a small wisp of light appeared. He took her to an embankment that hung out over the river. The sound of the gurgling water, the stars shining down on the river, it was a romantic, peaceful setting. "If you brought me out here to seduce me, it won't work." Though, in truth, it was working far more than she cared to admit to. She'd already been drawn to him. He was kind, gentle, funny and charming to the point of sinful. What woman could resist such a man? It was obvious the single women of the camp could not. He stepped in behind her and she closed her eyes as his fingers skimmed up her bare arms.

"I did not bring you here to seduce you, though the idea has merit." He chuckled softly. "I brought you here simply to talk. To get to know you better away from the audience. I thought you might be more comfortable out here, though I'd be just as willing to woo you at the fire."

"Woo me?" she asked arching a brow. "Just like you were wooing the other women?" There was no reason why his actions with the other women should bother her, but they did.

He gently rubbed her arms. "I wasn't wooing them. I was flirting and they flirted back. Women want to lay with me because I'm different. What they offer is nothing more than simple pleasure, which is nice – but maybe a part of me wants to find something more meaningful that that. Perhaps with a beautiful, red-haired temptress," he murmured.

She shivered at his words. He was good. Too good. "I'm not Lor, Kael – I can't just know if you words are sincere. I would rather be alone than be…hurt again," she admitted.

He turned her around and slipped his hands up to cup her face. "Who do you think told me that I might find more in you? She told me to stay away from you if I could not give you more and yet…here I am - I could not stay away. As she knew I wouldn't. She would not have told me to give myself to you if she wasn't sure of me. The woman is never wrong."

She looked up into sinfully silver eyes that glowed softly under the starlight. "So I've heard." She'd talked to Lorianna some about her life before the chantry, but the woman took far more from her stories than she'd intended her to. Apparently, the stories of her _knowing_ things were accurate. Or maybe she was just a master at hearing what is not said. "Is that what you are doing then? Giving yourself to me?" she teased.

"Should I lay naked on silver platter with an apple stuffed in my mouth?" he teased back.

She smiled up at him. "I do not think there has ever been a platter quite so large…maybe a longtable or a giant bearskin rug."

"Perhaps, here on this bank under the moonlight? Though, sadly…I am lacking an apple. I would need to find something else that my mouth would enjoy…tasting…" he said softly. When her body swayed against his he lowered his head down to capture her lips. One arm slipped around her to pull her up his body so he did not have to hunch down to continue kissing her. After her arms slipped around his neck he lowered them to the ground, his hands slid up her thighs to raise the dress high enough that she could straddle his hips. He was very pleased they'd both removed their armor for the night, but without his armor there was no hiding the effect she had on him. He growled and gripped her ass when she ground against him. His fingers slid beneath the material of her small clothes to stroke her liquid heat. He groaned, his breath coming in small pants. She was wet and ready for him.

Her body ached for him in a way she had not experienced before. She had not realized there was anything new left to experience. Her hands skimmed over his bare chest, her nails raked gently over the tight peaks of his nipples and he shuddered beneath her. She pulled back to look up into his amazing silver eyes. "Are you mine?" she asked in a husky voice. She ground against him once more, a moan slipping from her lips. "No one else. Just me."

His finger trailed lower and sank into her heat; her cry drowned out his own. "Just you. Just me – this is a dance that belongs to only us two and I am in no hurry for the song to end." At her nod he pulled the dress up over her head, laid it out next to them and then rolled her over onto it, so that her back was not against the ground. He untied her chemise and slid it off her arms. He rose to step out of his underarmor pants, gave her a moment to look him over and closed his eyes when her hand reached up to stroke him. He released a ragged breath and stepped back. "I want you too much to withstand your touch." He lowered himself between her legs to remove the final piece of her smallclothes set. "Beautiful," he crooned when he saw the silky, red curls that framed her soft, wet, pink petals. He nudged her thighs further apart and settled between them. He stroked her inner thighs, his thumbs brushing across her sensitive skin. The sound of her moan was too much for him to bear and he lowered his head to slide his tongue into her heat.

"Oh my…" she'd never felt anything like that before. Waves of pleasure rippled through her and the tip of his tongue flicked quickly back and forth over some kind of pleasure button inside of her. He withdrew from her to slide his tongue up make love to the nub that had swollen for him.

Kael barely glanced at the couple on the bank as he threw down a blanket and chuckled a moment later when his wife pulled him down on top of her. There was little by way of privacy in camp. If any were modest, that did not last for long. They bathed together, used the trench together; there were very few secrets, especially when it came to lovers. For warmth and safety, tents and bedrolls had to be in close proximity. Kael had intended to remove all his wife's clothing…but he didn't need to just yet, since she wore men's pants. He untied the pants and lowered the cloth to expose her soft flesh to him. With a soft growl he took her into his mouth. They'd teased each other mercilessly back at the camp, it was past time for the grand finale.

After she'd tumbled over the abyss, he helped her remove her clothing, careful to keep her back to the other couple and then led her down into the rock-pool. He settled on a rock ledge beneath the waters and drew his wife down onto his lap so he could sink slowly into her hot, gripping heat. By then, the other couple was joining them at the opposite end of the pool. Neither couple said anything to each other. Now was not the time for small talk. Indeed, they did their best to pretend the other couple wasn't even there, focusing only on the giving and receiving of pleasure.

Kael and Lorianna were the first to leave the pool, sated and content. He would have liked to have enjoyed the rock-pool's swirling waters for longer, but they left to give the new couple more alone time together. With the dogs guarding the camp and the horses, they slipped into their tent and back into each other's arms.

-BREAK THREE-

The smell of roasting meat brought people out of their tents come morning. Elvie and Syn were up before the others to hunt for breakfast. They grinned at Lyrica as she slipped out of Berchan's tent with pink cheeks. Elvie certainly didn't blame her. There was something about war and knowing death may be right around the corner, that made the need for a connection all that more comforting. She'd tried it with Kadar. He was a talented lover and she didn't regret the experience, but she had come to realize that for her, sex without love was meaningless. She might not be able to have Cullen, but she doubted she'd ever be able to handle a casual relationship. Maybe that wasn't exactly right. Some part of her still clung to the hope that Cullen would be hers.

After breakfast Kael went over their plan of action. "I've gone over the treaties. There are three groups of people that we are going to press into service. Syn is going to lead the group going to Orzammar. I will give her the treaty to present to the king. Tayln and Morrigan will be accompanying her. Elvie will lead the group going to Kinloch Hold and will bear the treaty requiring assistance. Sten and Leliana will accompany her." He noticed Sten's frown, but the qunari remained silent. "Lyrica will lead the group going to the Brecilian Forest to look for the dalish that have been reportedly seen. Bethany, Gilmore and Berchan will be accompanying her. Kadar, Alistiar, Lor and I will be going to try to locate the Urn, whether we succeed or fail in that we will then go to Redcliffe Castle to rally Eamon's army. They should rally under our banner even if we are unsuccessful at healing Eamon. But it will make things easier at the Landsmeet to have Eamon on our side. As you have noticed, I tried to keep couples together, because I did not want their focus split." He inclined his head to Kadar and Leliana. "However, I can't risk any apostates going to the Circle."

"You don't have to," Alistair said. "I will change places with Leliana."

"Alistair, I chose you to come with us, brother, because I know Eamon meant something to you," Kael pointed out.

Alistair nodded. "He did – does. But I wasn't raised as part of his family. I was raised as a servant. A stable lad. The only real friend I even had was…" His gaze moved to Lorianna. "I don't know why I did not see it before. She was you - the little girl that dressed like a boy and snuck out to help me with my chores! You told me your name was Sky," he said with a shake of his head. "But even the stablemaster would not chase you away."

She laughed. "He could not; I was the Arlessa's daughter and Sky is my middle name. I did not want you to push me away or feel uncomfortable around me. And you told me to call you Ward! I guess I did not recognize you without being covered in dirt." Her smile slipped. "Are you sure about not coming with us?"

He nodded. "I thought Ward better than 'Alistair the bastard spare'. I guess we both had things we wanted to hide." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Whatever I felt about Eamon, he did not hold me in the same regard. And when I left…it was not on the best of terms." He cleared his throat. "I know you will do everything you can for the Arl."

Kael nodded. "Your sacrifice will not be forgotten, brother."

Alistair raised a hand. "It's fine. I know what it is like to be away from the one you care about. There's nothing I can do about Ann, but there is something I can do about Leliana."

Leliana raised her hand to her heart. "I don't know what to say, Alistair. Thank you. That is very gracious of you. It will not forget your compassion."

Kadar nodded. "Whenever you need anything, call on me and I will back you up. You are a good man, Alistair."

"Stop, you're making me blush," Alistair teased with a grin.

"Very good. It is settled. Don't forget your bedrolls, unless you like sleeping on rocks. We will maintain our camp here. You may return any time you need to resupply. Legion and Taltos will guard the camp while we're away. When you have completed your mission then return here to camp to await the rest of us. Commander's make sure you have coin to stable your horses and purchase minor supplies. If you do not, see either my wife or myself before you leave. Keep in mind Loghain has declared us traitors, so keep your eyes open and stay safe."

"Maker watch over us all," Leliana said softly.

In little over an hour, they were saddled and heading out in different directions. It would be some time before they would see each other again. They were different people from different walks of life united together to defeat a blighted enemy. And if they survived, they would have stories to tell and bonds of friendships forged in the heat of Hell.


	5. A Thedas Tale Ch5 - The Urn

Dragon Age

A Thedas Tale

Ch 5 – The Urn

It was Genitivi that was researching the Urn and he lived in Denerim. That was their first stop. As they approached the city, Kale pulled his cowl up over his head to hide his features in the ensuing shadows. He looked too much like Cailan to expose himself just yet. He would be back at Denerim soon enough. For now, he lacked the numbers to make a push at the throne. He pulled his horse to a stop. "Kadar, Leliana…ask around. Find Genitivi's home. If he's there, ask him where he thinks the Urn is, if he's not then search for any notes he might have left behind." He nodded to his wife and dismounted. He tied Taibor's reins to Andris' saddle. "Lor and I will infiltrate the Castle. We won't get caught, but we do need to talk to Anora," he explained as his wife tied her horse to Ranger's saddle. "The sooner we find out her stance, the better."

Kadar frowned but nodded. "If you get caught, I will tear down the castle walls to find you. Fair warning."

Kael grinned. "Save that as a last resort. I prefer my castle in one piece…it's less drafty that way."

They hurried to a side entrance, only used by servants. Two men guarded the door. Lorianna made a slow sweeping arch of her hand. "You see only scullery maids." She hated doing that, but she could not risk bringing the castle down on their heads until they were ready.

"I see only scullery maids," they repeated and opened the door for them. They turned into the servants' passages and made their way up the stairs to second floor. She slipped into a now unused private servant's room, opened a back panel and took the stairs up to the third floor and opened the panel to step out into the king's bedchamber.

Kael's brow lifted. "Should I worry about why you know a secret entrance into Cailan's chamber?

"It wasn't Cailan's chamber when we discovered the passageway. The adjoining room belonged to an elven servant woman…one Maric was particularly attached to. We would sneak in here to raid his stash of sweetmeats and wine. The best in the castle found their way to his room, thus…so did we."

"I'm still finding sweet treats hidden throughout this room," Anora said with a smile as she slipped out of the adjoining queen's chamber and slid her dagger back into its belted sheath. "I was so afraid - I never knew what happened to you – I thought you'd died at Ostegar." She ran to her friend and hugged her tight. She pulled back to look at Lor with concern. "My father – he doesn't know you're here?"

"No," she said with a shake of her head. "We were careful." She took Anora's hand and led her to chairs facing the fire. Before she could settle down on one of them, Kael picked her up and lowered her onto his lap. 'We don't have a lot of time; so much has happened and so much still needs to happen. But, first…we need to know – was Maric's missive read after…Cailan's death." Her throat tightened and she swallowed hard.

Anora shook her head. "Missive? What are you talking about? What missive?"

Lor closed her eyes a moment and exhaled slowly. "Then your father found them. There were three missives - one in this room, one left with the archivist and one safely away from the castle."

Anora's hand tightened on Lor's. "The archivist was found dead – it was said he died of natural causes, but that never sat well with me. He was too young and healthy. What did these missives say?"

Lorianna bit her lip. "I do not think it is something you wish to hear, but nor will I lie to you. Maric had two other sons. The younger one with a low-born woman. The older one he sired on a noblewoman. It is this older son that Maric claimed, giving him the Theirin name and making him heir to the throne after Cailan. The heir to the throne is married Anora, so you will not be able to form an alliance with him through marriage unless he is willing to set his wife aside." She felt her husband's grip on her tighten and she sent a wave of calm at him. She had to hear what Anora would say. Whether she would remain a friend or become a foe.

Anora's dark blonde brows drew together. "We don't even know if this nobleman would make a good king. Up until my father declared himself regent, you know I was the one that ran the kingdom. I am not going to just give the throne over to some petty bastard lord!"

"And what if he was not just some petty bastard lord? What if he was a man of principle, justice and strength? Would you stand aside for such a man?" Lorianna asked cautiously.

"That is a lot of supposition. In truth, I would need to meet him and judge for myself. He would have to prove the type of man he is for me to consider giving up the throne. I know I'm not of noble birth, but for Ferelden's sake I will not give up the throne to just anyone."

"I am not just anyone, Anora. I am Kael Theirin, next in line for the throne," he put forth. "And I will not set aside my wife." He'd had to bite his tongue from the moment his wife made such a ludicrous statement.

Anora blinked. She should have known. The signs were there. He looked like Maric and Cailan, but she never gave it more of a thought because it was the Couslands and Eleanor loved Bryce with all her heart. She should have realized there was more to it. Why else would Maric have had Kael wed Lor at the palace even though he knew it would hurt Cailan? She had assumed it was because he thought of Lor as a daughter and wanted to do something nice for her, but now it made more sense. He wanted to watch his son marry a woman he'd always wanted for his daughter. "I see and no, of course you wouldn't set her aside. Then I will stand behind you both when the time comes. I may not like giving up my station, but at least I know Ferelden will be in good hands, despite my father's words."

"Thank you for believing in us. We have heard what your father and his men have been telling people and it's not true. Loghain did ask Cailan not to be on the front lines, but there were too few men for Cailan to issue orders from the rear. Loghain refused to allow the Grey Wardens from Orlais or orlesian soldiers into Ferelden to back them up. The army was split. Cailan's army was to draw the darkspawn in to attack their front lines. A beacon would be lit to let Loghain know when to bring his army in to flank the darkspawn, since he couldn't adequately see the battlefield from his location. My husband along with the Grey Warden recruits was sent to make sure the beacon was lit."

"There were Ferelden made traps set inside the Tower of Ishal. It looked like they were set to insure that no one lit the beacon. Loghain's men had been assigned to the tower and he did not want us to go, though he eventually capitulated. His men were overrun by darkspawn that came up from underground passages in the Tower. There were only two left alive by the time the Grey Wardens and I arrived at the Tower. We lit the beacon before we too were overrun," Kael filled in.

"At that time, I was on the valley floor. The beacon was lit, but no reinforcements came. I was able to have a few words with Cailan before he...succumbed to his wounds. I took my rage out on darkspawn until Duncan reminded me that I had to protect the new king and build another army to defeat the blight. That is what we are working on right now."

"I knew it," she seethed. "I just asked him today if he killed Cailan and he said Cailan's need for chasing glory is what killed him. But I knew he lied to me. I could see it on his face." She lifted her hands to her face and rubbed it. "I know what happened at Castle Cousland. Some of the servants and a few wounded soldiers made it back here. Howe attacked the Castle when Fergus left with the Cousland army. Howe is a friend of my father's. I cannot bear to think it – that my father might have fallen so low…but…" she shook her head. "I can't help but wonder if it was planned. Your father was talking with orlesians and he was close to Cailan, both of which my father would view as a threat. And now with Arl Eamon falling ill…his wife is orlesian and he was also close to Cailan. The archivist is dead…almost everyone who could pull my father from power is being neutralized. He was a hero – this doesn't make any sense!"

Lorianna rubbed her forehead. "Fear is a powerful incentive and it can drive men to do horrible things." She held up her hand. "I am not excusing it. I can never forgive him for what he's done to my family. To the people I love. But I do not get the same sense of maliciousness as I do with Rendon. So, I think your father truly believes that he is the only one that can save Ferelden and there is nothing he wouldn't do to make that happen. Perhaps, I am wrong. But I do not believe so."

"I do not either," Anora said dully. "I don't expect you to forgive him. But he is still my father. I hope that someday he will see past his fear and seek to redeem himself. I _need_ to believe that." She exhaled slowly. "I will not ask what you are going to do. It is far safer for all of us if I don't know the details. I do imagine, at some point, you will call for a Landsmeet. When you do, I will stand beside you." She rose to her feet. "For now you should go. Leave Denerim as quietly as you can." She hugged them both after they rose. "You risked a lot coming here, but I'm glad to see that you are both okay. Do you know anything about Fergus? – or…or the others," she stammered.

"The others are fine as far as we know. Kyrian and Starlynn are expecting a child. They are at Craighorn Keep right now. I can only hope the family has made plans to evacuate Western Hills." He ran a hand through his golden hair. It frustrated him that he could do nothing for his Wulff family or his sister. "Cailan told me that Fergus and his men were sent deep into the Wilds and would not be back in time for the battle. I know little else at the moment," Kael told her.

Anora nodded. She just had to hope he was still alive. Though, she was unsure how he'd react to her with what happened to his wife and son. She would be there for him when he found out – if he allowed her to be. "Now – go, both of you, and stay safe." She blinked in surprise when a panel opened up in the wall and they disappeared through it. So that was how they got in without raising the alarm.

Lorianna waved at her friend and closed the panel behind her. The followed the passageway back to the empty servant's room and took the servant passage back to the side door of the castle.

The guard looked at the ladies appreciatively. "You know, we get off in a couple of hours if you girls are up for a bit of…sport."

She lifted her hand to her lips to stifle a giggle over her husband's unamused expression. "If our husbands are okay with it, we'll be back."

"Och, now…miss. They don't need to know," the guard insisted.

She took her husband's hand. "Since you put it that way, perhaps you will see us again…" she turned to wave at the guards and slipped around to the front of the castle.

He frowned at his wife. "Was that really necessary?" He'd wanted to beat the propositioner 's face into ground. It was only her touch that had calmed him.

"Many servants would be pleased to be noticed by anyone of higher station. The prospect of coin or conceiving a child had the chance of bettering their lot in life. So, yes, it would have been out of place to raise airs over their suggestion," she pointed out.

"I still don't like-"

"There you are!" Leliana said as she rode over to the pair. "We had a small problem at Genitivi's, but nothing we couldn't handle. Something odd is going on. His house was under surveillance. We found Genitivi's assistant's body and the scholar's notes. We also... neutralized the spy, though he would tell us nothing as to why he was there." She handed the writings over to Kael. "The notes say Genitivi was going to Haven. If we are going to find the Urn, then that is our next stop."

Kael untied Taibor and mounted the smoky-grey horse. "Then we head to Haven – wherever the hell that is," he grumped. Could something just not be easy for a change? Just one thing.

Leliana laughed. "There was a crude map drawing among the notes. Apparently, it is west of Redcliffe Castle, across Lake Canlenhad."

He nodded. "Good, then we will be nearby Eamon once we put this Urn business to rest one way or another. Did you need to get any more supplies before we head out?"

"No," Kadar replied. "We got what we needed and I found a couple of items at the Wonders of Thedas."

"The little shop of horrors," Leliana said with a grin.

Kadar's mouth fell open. "It's an arcane shop!"

She reached her hand out to stroke his cheek. "I was only teasing you, Kadar." He captured her hand and she felt the press of his lips against her palm. Everything he said or did melted her heart that much more. She knew how to play the game. But this wasn't Orlais and he - what they were, was no game to her. The man was overflowing with romantic charm and sensual appeal and it was disconcerting that she was helpless against both, because she preferred to be the one in charge. But again, this was not the game and perhaps it was better that she had little control when it came to him, it certainly made everything more daring and exciting.

They hadn't gotten far out of the town before they were attacked. They thought they would be safe attacking from on-high, but with an archer a mage and a jedi, they were sadly mistaken. Kael flung himself off Taibor's back, rolled and leapt towards an oncoming soldier. An arrow took out an accompanying wolf. He could hear the screams of the other attackers but forced his attention to the one in his sights. He backhanded the shield from the soldier's hand; with a sweep of his sword he knocked the sword from the soldier's hand and raised his leg to send a powerful kick into the soldier's chest. The man stumbled backward and fell.

"Wait!" Leliana cried. "We need to question him! He is no common bandit. None of them were. Their weapons and armor are of fine make and they are well trained." Her eyes narrowed on the solider that was still hunched over trying to regain his breath. "You know what I'm talking about, don't you? Who are you?" she demanded as she approached the downed soldier.

He sucked in a labored breath. "Someone who regrets taking you on. Was told it would be an easy job. Kill the little red-head girl; deal with the others as we pleased." He looked around at his dead comrades. "Easy," he scoffed. "We've kicked the damned hornet's nest and I'm the only one left breathing."

Leliana blinked. "Kill the – you came to kill me?"

Kadar slammed his staff on the ground, the silver spikes sparked against stone. His free hand curled into a fist. Faint words fell from his lips and blue flames danced from his curled fingers. "You came after the wrong girl, dead man."

He looked up into the silver eyes of the horned giant and held up his hands to wave them in negation. "Wait…wait…Maybe we can works something out. I've no real quarrel with you," he said as he tore his eyes from the giant to look at the red-head, who seemed more willing to listen than the horned savage. "Wasn't me that wanted you dead, but I know how you can find the one who does."

Lelianna put her hand on Kadar's arm to still the deadly magic. "He is no longer a threat to me. Talk now," she told the soldier.

"I have some directions written down," he said as he pulled the parchment from his pocket. "The house is in Denerim. Here…," he handed her the folded parchment, "It's the best I can do."

"Thank you." Leliana inclined her head to him. "Now leave. If I see you again I will not stay Kadar's hand."

A breath of relief slipped from his lips. "Don't worry," he said as he turned away from the group. "I'll not trouble you no more."

"I would have killed him," Kadar grumbled.

"I know," she said quietly and squeezed his arm. "It's Marjolaine. It has to be. Maybe someone recognized me…maybe she wants to finish what she started."

"Then we will return to Denerim and settle this," Kael stated. "We have enough to watch out for without adding this. Mount up. We're heading back."

It didn't take them long to get back to town. "Here," Leliana said as she reined Ranger in. "According to the instructions, this is the house."

They dismounted and Kael opened the door. Two large, qunari sentinels charged them on sight. "Saraabas!" one of them yelled when he saw a magic bolt arch towards him.

After the qunari - or tal-vashoth fell, Kael opened the main door and they stepped into out of the parlor and into the house proper.

Marjolaine smiled. "Leliana! Ah…so lovely to see you again, my dear…"

Leliana'a eyes narrowed. "Spare me the pleasantries. You framed me...had me caught and tortured. I thought that in Ferelden I would be free of you – but it seems I never will be." A soft breath escaped. This was harder than she thought it would be. "What happened to make you hate me so? Why do you want me dead so badly?"

Marjolaine quirked a brow. "Dead? Nonsenses. I know you, my Leliana. I know what you are capable of. Four..five men – you can dispatch easily. They were sent to give you cause to come to me. See? Here you are."

"Do not call me _your_ Leliana! I will never be yours!"

"She is mine," Kadar growled.

Marjoliane laughed. "Is that what you think, handsome giant? Were I you I would not believe a word she says. Not a one. You look at her and see a simple girl – a friend, trusting and warm. It is an act. Leliana was trained to lie…to deceive. She is using you because that is all she knows how to do. When she has what she needs from you she will move on, leaving behind a shattered heart – like she has with so many before you."

He chuckled. "I do not shatter so easily and Leliana is not the woman she used to be."

Leliana bit back the smile. She did not lose him to that viper's tongue. "No, I'm not. I left because I didn't want to become you."

Marjolaine grinned. "Oh, but you are me. You cannot escape it. No one will understand you the way I do. Because we are one and the same. You enjoyed the game – reveled in the power it gave you over others. You cannot change or deny this."

"Enough, Marjolaine! I will never be like you! Why are you even here? Why are you in Ferelden?"

Marjolaine frowned and gave a slight nod. "In truth? You have knowledge that you can use against me. For my own safety, I cannot let you be. Did you think I did not know where you went? Did you think I would not watch my Leliana?"

"I. Am. Not. Yours!"

Marlolaine shrugged. "I knew you were up to something. The peasant clothes, the messy hair like a boy – that was not you. So I watched. No letters were sent…no messages. You barely spoke to anyone. Clever, Leliana…you almost had me fooled. But then you left the chantry so suddenly. What conclusion should I draw? You tell me."

"Hmmm…" Leliana tapped her lip with her finger. "What evil plot was I planning? You are being ridiculous, Marjolaine! There is a blight. If it is not stopped we all die. There cannot be a higher calling than that."

She laughed. "Such stories you weave, Leliana. I might even have believed it if I did not know better."

Leliana exhaled slowly. "You will never give me peace. I cannot let you interfere with what we need to do. I want you out of our lives forever. You have caused too much pain for too many. And that pain ends here."

"Ha! You think you can kill me? I made you, Leliana. I can destroy you just as easily," she warned.

"But I did not come alone, did I?"

"Neither did I." Marjolaine cried out for her men to join her and withdrew two small daggers from her back before advancing on Leliana.

Lorianna threw out a powerful burst of energy, hurtling everyone backwards. She flipped over the trap in front of the right hand room and held her hand out towards the mage. His staff pulled from his grasp and landed in hers. "Oopsie! Did I take your stick away? Bad me!" She tilted her head as she held him in her power. "I do not feel evil in your heart. If you are doing this for pay then walk away. If you stay you will not survive the next few moments," she warned.

He could feel her power. He did not know what she was and he did not care. He was in way over his head. "Yes…yes...mistress. Thank you for your mercy." He blinked when she tossed his staff back to him. He nodded and slipped out the back door.

She left Marjolaine to Leilana to deal with and focused on the mercenary qunari. It wasn't difficult to pick a target when she saw one turn a heavy war hammer towards her husband's back. She yanked the hammer from his grasp as he swung backwards, the loss of its weight sent him careening forward against her husband. Kael grabbed his arm and pulled him over his shoulder, dropping him onto the human that rushed him. He raised his sword and buried it hilt deep into both bodies.

She turned to see Leliana strike Marjolain hard with her bow, sending the woman stumbling backwards. Leliana whipped out an arrow, it pierced her mentor's eye and buried into the wooden wall behind her. For just a brief moment Marjolaine stood against the wall as if deciding what to do next. Her knees gave out and weight caused the arrow to pull through her head as her body hit the floor, eye visceral hanging from the embedded arrow.

Leliana turned from the macabre sight. "I – I need to leave," she mumbled, not even seeing the last man fall. She squared her shoulders and walked purposely out of the house.

Once they were mounted, Kadar pulled her off her mount and onto his lap. He grabbed Ranger's reins and tied them to his saddle before following Kael and Lor out of Denerim.

Leliana relaxed against him, enjoying the safety and comfort of his large arms around her. She'd tried to act strong when she left the house, but she obviously had not fooled him. Her old mentor's words stung. She wasn't just like Marjolaine, was she? Yes, she liked the game. Or at least, it was a love-hate relationship. But liking it and doing it are two different things, weren't they? If you enjoyed doing something you felt was wrong and so didn't do it, didn't that show moral strength? Liking something wrong did not make you a bad person, acting on it did. She had to believe that.

Kadar knew she needed time. She'd had to kill a mentor she'd once cared for. He would hold her until she was ready to talk about it. "Have you heard anything about Haven in your travels?"

"No, I did not even know it existed until we read about it in the scholar's notes. Most towns wish to be known to bring in trade and boost their economy with coin from visitors, but it's almost as if this village wishes to go unnoticed. I must admit I'm curious about it."

"I as well," he agreed. "I hope this Urn is here, I do not think the king will want to gallivant across Thedas to find it, we simply do not have the time."

"The Urn of Sacred Ashes. I always thought it was a myth. If Brother Genitivi is correct…" she shook her head. "I am not worthy to look upon her ashes."

"In that you are wrong, my Lea… the past is behind you, let it go. And if you believe that Andraste died for us all, then we are all worthy of seeing the Urn. If you are still plagued with doubts, then know this - Whatever you have done or not done in your past, you have a good heart. You tried to save Marjolaine from herself. You chose to give up the peace you found at the chantry to try to save Ferelden. And now you feel bad about your mentor's death – a death she gave you no choice about. You saved lives by stopping her. She'd have continued to hire mercs and that would have ended in more needless deaths and mayhap our own. We all have our own darkness within, but do not let that blind you to the light that fills your soul. It is that light that will give you the strength to keep the darkness at bay."

She smiled softly. "How do you do that? How do you know just what to say? Lor does the same thing. Does that make you a diplomatic merc?" she teased.

He chuckled. "In a manner of speaking. My parents taught me values when I was young. They were good with words and believed that not everything needed to end in violence. There were other paths to walk." His lips tightened. In the end, those other paths had not saved his parents.

"My parents were Ben-Hassrath – qunari re-educators. And they did what was forbidden – they fell in love. They knew what would happen if they were discovered. So they ran to live a life that would have been denied to them. As I grew older, as most children were wont to do, I rebelled. I spent more time away from home. The last time I stepped foot in our house was when I found my parents slain. Had I been there, I might have saved them. I would have given anything to tell them I loved them, that I was sorry. But I was too late. I buried them together so they could be with each other in death as they were in life and walked away from the only home I'd ever known. I kept walking until I found some mercs who were willing to take me in. I did not know the irony of the situation," he admitted.

"When I first joined the Valo-kas Mercenary Company, I was not so different than you were in your past. I did what was required for coin. But I grew disillusioned and suspicious. When I tore through the leader's chamber I found my mother's amulet. I knew then that I'd joined the mercs that killed my parents and destroyed my life. I hunted down each member responsible for the murder of my parents and then I took control. We only hire on for honorable jobs now – primarily protection work or taking out bandits. Anything looted goes to those less fortunate, the pay we split. It has worked out well enough."

"If you are the leader, why did you choose to protect the king and queen? Why not send others?" she asked curiously.

"Varric did not hire the company, he hired _me_. And I cannot think of a more worthwhile assignment. He also hired Niloh to protect the prince and princess of Starkhaven. Actually, he called the prince 'choir-boy'," he said with a shrug. "He paid extra for us to send him missives regularly. Nothing that would damage what we're trying to do, just general information for the stories he's writing about her highness and the princess. I've already told the king and queen because I refused to send missives without their consent."

She tilted her head to the side and peered up at him. "A noble knight and a charmer with a silver tongue...what more could a girl want?"

He lowered his head to capture her lips. He did not see himself as a noble knight, but it warmed his heart that she did. "Only silver? I was thinking gold," he teased.

A couple of hours later they made camp for the night, filled their hungry bellies, made love under their blankets and slipped into the dreams that awaited them.

-BREAK ONE-

After breakfast, they saddled their mounts and moved out. It took three and a half days to reach Lothering. They spent the night in the inn, purchased supplies and started out again after an early breakfast. It took another five days to reach Haven. They'd had to stop for one day outside of Redcliffe due to the rain. They were stopped by a local as they entered Haven.

The armed local looked up at the mounted party. "What are you doing in Haven? There is nothing for you here."

Kael quirked a brow. A friendly sort. "We are in search of a man that was last seen here. Have you seen a man by the name of Brother Genitivi?"

"Who? You are the only outsiders I have seen. Perhaps, Revered Father Eirik will of whom you speak. Unfortunately, he is ministering to the villagers at the moment and cannot be disturbed."

"Revered Father?" Leliana asked in surprise. "I have never heard of this. That – that's not right."

"It's always been thus in Haven. We do not question tradition," the local informed her. "Our ways are not the ways of the lowland cities. We keep to ourselves – it is more peaceful that way. Perhaps you should return to the lowlands."

"We will do so, good sir, as soon as we've had a chance to talk to your Father Eirik. We do not mind waiting for him to finish his ministering." Lorianna told him.

"You may trade for supplies at the shop while you wait," he said as he pointed up the hill. "Then I suggest you and your companions leave after you've had your talk with the Father."

Kael inclined his head to the local and nudged Taibor into a walk. As they moved up the small hill towards the shop it was hard to miss the fact that the locals were staring at them as if they were an invasion of rats in the larder. That brought a momentary grin to his face until he recalled Nan's scolding. He almost wished he could hear it now.

They dismounted and entered the shop.

The shopkeep looked up when the door opened. "Who are you? You're not from Haven."

"Yes, that has been pointed out to us before," Kael teased.

The shopkeep scratched behind his ear. "Sorry, but we rarely have outsiders come to Haven. I imagine you've created quite a stir."

Kael nodded. "So it would appear. Have you seen a man by the name of Brother Genitivi?" Kadar asked.

He looked up at the giant, horned man and blinked. "I – no. Are those real?" he asked, motioning to the top of his head.

Kadar reached up and drew his hand along one of his horns that curved gracefully away from his face. He gave it a slight tug. "It would seem they are real indeed and quite firmly rooted to my head."

"I – yes. Of –of course," the shopkeep stammered. His gaze lowered to the man that appeared to be in charge. "Take a look around and let me know if there is anything you want to buy. I'm also open to trades."

They purchased a few small items, but the shop was mostly lacking and ill stocked. Though, that was to be expected since outsiders weren't welcomed. "Thank you, where is the chapel? I need to speak to your Father Eirik after he is finished with his service."

"When you exit the shop turn left and go up the hill. The chapel is at the top of the hill. But he doesn't like interruptions, so you will need to wait. You uhh…won't be staying here long will you? We have no accommodations for outsiders."

Of course they didn't. "No, we intend to be on our way once we speak to him."

"Good. It's best you not linger," the shopkeep said with a nod. Bad things happened to folks that lingered – and these people looked like they'd be missed and that would lead to more outsiders. That was never good.

Lorianna exhaled slowly. It felt good to step back out into the warmth of the sun. She swung up onto Shadow's back. "Something is very wrong here. I am uneasy. While I did not sense the same hostility from the shopkeep as I did the others, he was hiding something. I also sensed fear in him. Keep your guard up, but do not show hostility. I would like to avoid a confrontation, if possible."

They saw no other villagers on the way up to the chapel. They waited for awhile. No one came up the hill and no one came out. "Something is not right. I sense a growing fear…pain."

"We're going in," Kael stated as he dismounted. "Leliana – please guard our horses. I have no desire to walk to Redcliffe. Kadar – stay with her or come with us. The choice is yours." He pulled open the door and walked into the chapel.

"…we are blessed beyond measure. We are chosen by the Holy and Beloved to be her guardians. This sacred duty is given to us alone; rejoice, my brotheren, and prepare your hearts to receive Her." The father raised his hand. "Lift up your voices, and despair not, for She will raise Her faithful servants to glory when Her-" His voice fell silent when he saw the outsiders. "Ah…welcome. I heard we had visitors wandering about the village. I trust you've enjoyed your time in Haven so far?"

He glanced around and saw one of the villagers they'd passed on the way to the shop. So this is where he'd disappeared to. "We might have…if the villagers had been a little more welcoming. We are only here to find Brother Genitivi. He has not been heard from since he came here. Tell us where he is and we will leave you to your…sermoning."

Father Eirik crossed his surprisingly well-muscled arms over his chest. "Then you have come a long way for nothing. This Brother Genitivi has never been here. So - Where are you going?" he asked when he saw Lorianna moving towards the hidden room.

"There is fear and pain. They need help," she pointed out as she looked over the stone to find its trigger.

"This, my brothers, is what happens when you let outsiders into the village. They have no respect for our privacy," the Father stated with a frown. "You, strangers, do not understand our ways. You would bring war to Haven, in your ignorance."

Lorianna's eyes narrowed on him. "Who is back there? Is it Brother Genitivi?"

"We don't owe you any explanations for our actions. We have a sacred duty. Failure to protect t Her would be a greater sin. All else will be forgiven."

"Then we are at an impass – because I will see who is being held back there." She waved her hand at the door and it slid open.

"Do not let them leave and spread word of Haven! We must protect Her!" Father Eirik bellowed.

She waved her hand again to slide the door closed, she did not want to put whoever was in there at greater risk. She held out her hand and tore the Father's staff from his hands. She caught it and swung it at one of the armed guards, sending him crashing to his hands and knees. She brought the staff down over his back and he went down with a groan. She slammed it against another armed guard's back, he stumbled forward and fell, landing atop the Revered Father.

He rose to his feet and took a faltering step back. His sword was buried in the Father's belly. "Nooo…No….," he murmured as he backed further away from the grisly scene. His body arched as electricity raced through him. His vision faded and the pain released its grip.

She looked around. The other armed guards were dead. But they were still under attack by the unarmed congregation. She sent a moderate wave of power towards them and like bowling pins they fell over, but she could not bring herself to kill unarmed people. That was best left to those who could stomach it. She waved her hand to slide the door open and then slid it closed behind her. She turned to see a man lying in the middle of the room. She hurried over to him and knelt down beside him.

He opened his eyes to see a beautiful angel. "Am I dead then?" he asked confused.

"No, you are not dead. I am Lorianna Theirin. Are you Brother Ferdinand Genitivi?" She inquired as she held the back of her hand to his forehead. No fever. That was good.

He released a slow breath. "You don't know how glad I am to see someone who isn't from this village." He groaned as he sat up. "My leg's not doing well and I can't feel my foot. Ha. Apparently, they had to take a break from killing me because the ministering could not be delayed."

"I'm not a healer, exactly. But I can give you a bit of healing and wrap your foot… that should hold you until you reach medical attention." She slowly pulled off his boot, placed one hand on his shin the other on his foot and focused the energy on healing. She pulled back when she felt the drain on her own energy. "Give me a moment. I need to acquire some cloth to wrap your foot."

She stepped back into the room and nearly walked into both men who were standing at the door with their arms crossed over their chest. "I need you to find me a relatively clean piece of cloth – a sleeve...whatever. I need to wrap Genitivi's foot.

She left the door open this time when she returned to the room the scholar had been left in. "I have come with friends and they will bring me a piece of cloth.

He looked at the young blonde with awe. "Whatever you did – it worked. I can feel my foot and my leg doesn't ache so much anymore. You are a healer, but not a medical doctor and not a mage. What are you?"

"I am here to help you and I need your help to find the Urn of Sacred Ashes so that I may take a pinch to heal a sick man. Whatever else I am pales in comparison right now," she pointed out.

"Not to me," Kael said as he stepped into the once hidden room.

Kadar followed him in and handed the torn sleeve to Lor.

"Thank you." She wrapped his foot up, tied the ends off and carefully slipped his boot back on. "That will have to do for now."

Kael held his hand out to help the scholar rise to his feet.

Ferdinand's eyes lit up. "The Urn is just up that mountain! I'm so close!"

"How do you know?" Kael asked.

"My research led me to Haven…and I've heard the villagers talking. I know the Urn is here. Haven lies in the shadow of the mountain that holds the Urn. There is an old temple there, built to protect it. The door is always locked, but I know what the key is. Eirik wears a medallion that opens the temple door…I've seen what he does with it."

"This Medallion?" Kadar asked as he held out for Genitivi to see.

Ferdinand grinned. "Yes," he said with a nod. "That is the key. Take me to the mountain and I will show you how it works."

Lorianna frowned. "We have horses. You may ride with me, but you may damage your foot worse if you put much weight on it." She turned to look at Kadar. "Can you find a stick outside that he might be able to use as a cane to assist his walking?"

"Of course," he inclined his head and hurried outside to make sure Leliana was okay…and find a stick, of course.

She returned her attention to the scholar. "Do you believe the Urn has the power to heal Arl Eamon?"

He blinked. "The Arl? Has something happened to him?"

"He has fallen gravely ill. I believe it has something to do with Loghain wanting to crush any who would speak out again him taking the throne," she admitted.

"Loghain? Why? Oh, I have so occupied with the Urn...I've missed so much. The legends say that they have the power to heal anything and there are stories that tell of the blind seeing and the lame dancing. I certainly hope they can save him. Perhaps it is the ashes. Perhaps it is simply the belief itself, the mind can be a very powerful thing."

"Do you know why Haven has a Revered Father?" he was mainly asking questions to give the old man time to know if his foot could withstand his weight.

"It was the Chantry, not Andraste that proclaimed that only women could be ordained. It could be that these are the descendants of the early disciples of Andraste – at least that is what they call themselves, and thus have no knowledge of the Chantry's dictates or, perhaps, do not care. In fact, I would say they are fanatically devoted. They must be here to protect the Urn, but they speak of Andraste as if she were still alive."

Kael rubbed the back of his neck. He hated being the bearer of bad news, but the man had a right to know. "There is something you should know. Your assistant – Weylon…I'm sorry, Brother, but he'd been killed before we arrived at your home…an imposter was put in his place."

A harsh breath fell from the old man's lips. "Ah, poor Weylon…I should never have dragged you into this. Maker take you into his hands, my boy." He shook his head. "He believed in me even when I lost faith in myself. I will honor his memory."

Kadar returned with a stout stick and wrapped the end with a thick swath of cloth to protect the old man's palm. He handed the stick to the scholar.

Ferdinand put his weight on it and took a step. "Wonderful. Thank you. Perhaps, I will not slow us down too much."

Kael was glad when they reached their mounts. They needed to leave before the rest of the villagers found out what happened. He had no desire to kill a whole village.

Kadar removed Leliana's bedroll and tied it over the top of his own. He tied the stick onto the side of the saddle and then lifted the old man up and settled him behind Leliana. "You may hold onto her, but no straying hands," he warned.

Ferdinand chuckled. "I have little interest in things of that nature anymore. Your woman is safe with me."

Kadar nodded and swung onto Andris' back. He'd chosen to seat the scholar with Leliana because he could keep a better eye on him there, as he rode next to her behind the king and queen. And if he started to fall, he'd have a better chance of catching him before he broke any more bones.

Ferdinand pointed to the path that swerved towards the right. "Follow that trail over there; it will lead you to the mountain."

Within twenty minutes they'd reached the temple at the base of the mountain. They dismounted and led their horses in.

Ferdinand grinned. "Here's the door. Give me the medallion and let me see if I remember." He looked down at it until he saw the catch. "Yes…you see, it can be manipulated, just like this…" He twisted the medallion to the left and then the right and to the left once more until the latch released and edges sprang out, giving the medallion took the shape of a star. "And there…a key to open the way."

He examined the door and found a star-shaped metal slot. He inserted the key and gave it a small turn. There was a clank as a metal bolt slid free. He pulled the key from the door, twisted it until the edges receded into the medallion and handed it back to Kael. "And so we are in," he said with a self-satisfied grin.

There was a large central fire and many of the stone pillars held lit braziers. They followed the scholar, pulling their horses into the large front hall.

Ferdinand was in awe. "Ahhh…what I would give to have seen this hall in all its splendor – as it was meant to be…even covered in ice and snow traces of beauty remain. These carvings were created just after Andraste's death and they may reveal things about her life that we do not yet know. I think I need more time to study these statues and carvings."

Kadar untied the makeshift cane and handed it to the scholar.

"I do not sense anything too close. He and the horses should be safe enough here," Lorianna told her husband.

"Go – I will be all right. Perhaps, my destiny was only to lead _you_ to the Urn. I do not know what you will face deeper in, but the temple was designed to protect the Urn from those who would steal it or do harm to it – namely, the Tevinter Imperium. It is said that only the faithful shall lay eyes on the Sacred Ashes. Death and misfortune await the unbeliever. It is said the Maker watches over his Beloved's final resting place. But then, no one wants to hear, 'Willy toiled for many a year to perfect the curious mechanisms that would send a sharpened spike up the arse of the unwary intruder.'"

Lelianna nodded. "You are right. It is far more frightening to believe that you may be facing the Maker's wrath then cleverly laid traps."

Kael inclined his head. "Thank you. We will remain on guard."

Ferdinand smiled. "Come back alive, my king. Ferelden needs you."

Kael blinked and then cocked a brow at Leliana.

Leliana shrugged. "As a scholar he should know all truths."

-BREAK TWO-

Once they left the front hall behind, they found out where the rest of the villagers were. It seemed that most of the cultists lived here. The people that could not contribute, like the old or the young were left in the village. The cultists here were well-armed fanatics and they were forced to fight for every inch of ground they gained.

Lorianna joined her husband on the front line, daggers in hand, to draw attention away from Kadar and Leliana. They eventually fought their way to a fork. When she shrugged, not knowing which way to go, Kael headed to the left, hoping they were not wasting time on a dead end. The long hall wrapped back around and led them to another door, which entered into another wide hall and then turned left into tunnel.

They found enemies they were not expecting in the tunnels. There were more than just cultists here. Baby dragons swarmed them at several intervals. The cultists were breeding dragons..but why? One would think that would be detrimental to their health.

The tunnel eventually came to a fork. "I sense more life forces down the left side path."

Kael nodded and they followed the path the led to the left, but that branched out before they'd gotten too far.

Lorianna frowned. "There are more life forces if we go straight, but I think a majority of them are animal. Those life forces do not have the same emotional range. If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say go left."

They followed the long, stone hall, it turned right into another chamber of battle. The tunnel then continued on in the shape of an "S" before it exited in t large chamber with an exit they could see on the right. But it was more than obvious they'd stumbled into a viper's pit. You did not need extra sensory perception to feel the hostility in the cave chamber.

Kolgrim's eyes narrowed. Four people. Four people were responsible for all the carnage he'd been told about. Well, it ended with him. "Stop! You'll go no further. You have defiled our temple. You have spilled the blood of the faithful and slaughtered our young. No more!" he said as he slammed his fist onto his palm. "You will tell me now, intruder, why you have done all this." He moved to stand in front of the one that appeared to be their leader. "Why have you come here?"

"Greet me properly and I will tell you what you wish to know," Kael told him. He knew his statement would either cause the man to capitulate or begin battle.

Kolgrim studied him a moment and then inclined his head. "I am Father Kolgrim, leader and guide to the Disciples of Andraste. Kill us and you will face Andraste. She will smell our blood and the blood of her children on you and Her wrath will be great."

Kael looked back at Leliana, who was the most knowledgeable one here concerning Andraste.

She shrugged. "We have not slaughtered any children except for the maybe the dragonlings that attacked us - if that is so, he may be implying Androste is a dragon? I do not know; it does not make sense to me."

"So blind…" Kolgrim growled. "The prophet Andraste has overcome death itself and has returned to her faithful in a form more radiant than you can imagine. Not even the Tevinter Imperium could hope to slay her now, what hope do you have?"

"Dragons are mortal, they bleed as any other," Kael pointed out.

"Our children – her children are but pale echoes of her glory. You cannot fathom the power Andraste now holds," he replied.

"Your children? How are your children her children?" This was getting stranger by the moment.

"The blood of our children runs through the blood of hers. When the great Andraste returned to us one of our young men agreed to become a drake so that he could breed with Andraste and sire children on Her so that our bond would be strengthened with Her."

Kadar frowned. "That is not how the spell works. We can change our forms physically, but we are still the being we are on the inside. There would be no viable offspring with a dragon."

Kolgrim's smile was cold. "That is not how your spell works. The primary spell has always been full transformation. Your spell is merely a diluted version of the primary spell, because mages did not wish to give up their identities and magic. Our people have sacrificed much in the name of Andraste, just as we would sacrifice our lives now to protect her!"

"If Andraste has arisen then we are all entitled to see her," Leliana proclaimed.

"None but the Disciples may approach Andraste, She is not ready yet – but when the time is right, She will descend upon the nations in fiery splendor…" he raised a clenched fist, "and all will know Her. But…perhaps there is a way for you to make up for your heinous transgressions…Atop this mountain lie the remains of the mortal Andraste. The Urn is watched by an immortal guardian. He is trapped int eh past and refuses to accept the risen Andraste. The Ashes prevent the holy Andraste from fully realizing Her new form. They are remnant of Her past incarnation, and she cannot move on as long as they exist. She must reclaim the Ashes, to make them Her own again. All it would take is a drop of Her blood. Blood carries power, strength and knowledge. Through it, all the power that is held in the Ashes will be returned to our Lady. Only you had the fortitude and skill to survived the temple. You were led here by Andraste's hand to do Her work."

Kael shook his head. "You are utterly mad. Perhaps, the years of seclusion have made you so – or perhaps you always were, but we will _not_ be a part of this insanity!"

Kolgrim lifted his double-edged ax. "Then you will all die – if not by our hand then by Andraste's!"

Lorianna pulled the lightsaber from her magbelt and ignited it. Her first targets would be the mages. She threw her lightsaber at the closest mage just as he raised his staff in the air. The heated blade spun, taking the mage's head and then returned to her hand. She yanked Kolgrim's ax from his hands and swept her hand to the right, sending it hurtling into the only remaining mage with a grisly crunch." She raised her arm and pulled Kolgrim in her direction.

He could feel the invisible grip around his neck, but it did not tighten. As his body moved towards the beautiful woman he finally understood the truth. He had been wrong. Andraste had been reborn but not in the form of the dragon, but in this woman before him. Or perhaps She had transferred her essence from the dragon to this woman, but her power was a thick cloud around him, a power no mage could wield. "Andraste…" he murmured, a fanatical light lit his eyes. "Andraste has chosen a new form," he bellowed. "Kneel before her holy might, my brethren!" He looked into the light blue eyes of the prophet. "We are your Disciples, your loyal servants. We will protect you and serve you as we have done since your death. We are yours to command."

Kael blinked, his mouth falling open as the remaining Disciples lowered their weapons and knelt in the direction of his wife. Oaths of loyalty and devotion echoed throughout the cavern.

Lorianna loosed her hold on him and he fell to the ground, his head bent in submission. Insane or not, she could not kill one who surrendered. Now she was in a grey quandary. Let the others slay the remaining people that would not resist or defend themselves or allow them to live and point them in a more positive direction. "If you are mine to command, then you know what you must do," she said, testing their resolve.

Kolgrim nodded. "Yes, your Holiness. We must slay the dragon and protect you from her fiery retribution. But you must still destroy the Urn to regain all of your power."

She shook her head. "The ashes have no hold over me, they never have. The power in the ashes is magic and I have no need of magic, my power is beyond magic. I do not need them to know who and what I am. Whatever else I am, I am Lorianna Theirin, queen of Ferelden. My husband is Kael Theirin, rightful king of Ferelden." She did not like walking this grey path, but the alternative was against everything she believed, this only sickened her morally.

"The bride of the maker has always had a mortal husband." He looked over at the king. "Do not betray her as Gerneral Maferat did."

Kael's eyes narrowed. He didn't know what his wife was up to, but he trusted her. "My wife is the heart that beats in my chest. I would sooner stop breathing than betray our love."

She winked at her husband. "You and your followers will stop killing those that come to Haven. Instead, you will welcome them. You will send others out into Ferelden to trade and bring fresh goods back into Haven. Haven will no longer live in seclusion, it will prosper. You and those that can fight well will join us in our battle against the blight. After the dragon is dealt with, return to Haven, instruct your followers and take those with great skill to Redcliffe to join Arl Eamon's men for the battle to come." If this went well, then they would increase their army. She would worry about what to do with them later, after the Archdemon had been dealt with. With luck she would be able to keep them reined in.

There was one more test they had to pass before they could move onward. "From here on out I will be referred to as 'your Majesty', 'your Highness,' 'my Queen' or until I ascend to the throne you may call me 'your Ladyship', as I am also the Teyrna of Denerim. Those are my titles of this life. Andraste lived and died as she was meant to in the past. Do not let that sacrifice be meaningless. Your people will guard the identity of Andraste as you did the Urn. No one must learn of it, but you are not allowed to kill innocents. I have never wanted that. You have much to atone for. Give in the name of Andraste – do not destroy."

Kolgrim rose to his feet and bowed deeply to her. He wanted to world to know that she had risen, but she wanted to remain a martyr to the people then that is what they would give her. One thing he did n not doubt was that she would lead them through these troubling times as she had in the past. "Yes, your Hol – Ladyship. We shall do as you require. Follow me. I will take you to the blasphemer." He turned to two of his men. "Tolin and Malok return to the village. Tell them what has happened, what our new duties are and the secret that is to be guarded with our lives."

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. She sensed no deceit in him. It was her intention to turn this town into a force of good. She could only hope what she was doing did not backfire. Her mother told her that often times the road to hell was paved with good intentions. Such was the path Loghain walked. Only time would see how this played out.

He led them out to the mountainside. A high dragon flew overhead and landed on a rocky ledge up high with a roar. She did not seem to notice them or did not care as she curled up and closed her eyes.

Kolgrim pulled out his horn. "I can call her down to us, your Ladyship."

She shook her head. "There is no need." She reached her hand up in the direction of the dragon and focused on seeing her hand wrap around her neck. She could kill there on the ledge by either squeezing the life from her or using her lightsaber, but she wanted Kolgrim to make the killing blow. This would be an act of atonement for him. She tightened her fist and yanked her arm down. The dragon was pulled off the ledge, her wings spread as she twisted and fought to get away, but her body slammed into the ground with a shuddering impact. Normally, she did not like to kill animals for no reason, but the bones on the ground showed that the dragon preferred easy human meals and that made her a threat to everyone.

"Kolgrim! Take her head with the ax while she is still stunned!" she ordered as she kept pressure on the dragon's neck, holding it firmly against the ground.

Kael ran towards the dragon, sword and dagger raised. He sank them into her wing and drew down, rending it useless. If anything happened he did not want the beast to fly away.

The dragon roared, blood spraying from her mouth as she struggled to get her feet under her. Her eyes rolled as she saw a human she knew approaching her, weapon drawn. The feeder carried no food. Her wing was torn, her body shattered. The will to fight was gone, but she would escape if she could only move. Was the feeder to end her suffering then? If she could stop him she would, she did not want to die, but she could not even turn her head to face the feeder.

When Kolgrin raised his ax, she added a push of power to its downward momentum. She did not want him to hack at her neck. The dragon was in enough pain and she just wanted it to end quickly for her. A jet of blood shot from the stump as the dragon's head rolled onto its side. She squeezed tighter to crush the blood vessels and stop the geyser of blood. She hurried forward, ignited her lightsaber and cauterized the raw stump.

Kolgrim bowed to her. "You are far more powerful in this life, your Ladyship. I can go no further," he said as he looked over at the far door. He pointed to the door past the dragon. "In there you will find the Guardian and your Ashes. Do with them as you will. I will return to the village and assemble the warriors for the journey to Redcliffe. We will fight and die for your honor." He inclined his head to her and to her husband, the king, and then departed with his followers.

"Do you know what you are doing?" Leliana asked when the Disciples were no longer in sight.

"Some say I am never wrong. I hope that proves correct this time. I could not kill people on their knees and unwilling to defend themselves. That is nothing less than slaughter. So I chose the path of lesser evil. I never once claimed to be Andraste. I am not even sure I could have dissuaded them. Zealots tend to be highly stubborn. But at least I can guide them down a gentler path"

Kadar nodded. "There are other paths. Not all paths lead to the same destination. I would not have thought of this path, but then I am no leader."

"I do not think it has anything to do with being a leader…but being a diplomat. I would not have thought of this path either," Kael admitted.

They opened the door and stepped into an ancient hall. Leliana's eyes opened wide. "We must be close. This is holy ground. I can feel it."

No. Not holy ground. Something different. "I feel it too, but what I feel is beneath us. All around us. Not holy – but it beats…almost like lifeblood through veins." It was a similar feeling to what she felt when she was around lyrium. "Lyrium. This place must have been built over massive deposits of lyrium. It has infused the walls, the floor. It surrounds us with its beat." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Leliana – I meant no insult to your beliefs."

"I was not insulted, Lor." She smiled. "I do not expect everyone to share my beliefs. And even if it is the lyrium I am feeling. I am still in awe that I am so close to your ashes," she teased.

"Funny, Le – you're a real hoot." She joined her husband to stand in front of an armored knight.

"I bid you welcome, pilgrims."

"Are you the guardian of this temple?" Kael asked.

"Yes. I am the Guardian, the protector of the Urn of Sacred Ashes. I have waited years for this."

"For our arrival?" Kadar asked curiously.

"You are the first to arrive in a very long time. It has been my duty, my life, to protect the Urn and prepare the faithful who come to revere Andraste. For years beyond counting have I been here, and I shall remain until my task is done and the Imperium has crumbled into the sea."

"The Imperium no longer holds the power it used to," Kael informed the Guardian spirit.

"The perhaps this is the beginning of the end…"

"The men in the rest of the temple will leave you in peace now. They will no longer seek to destroy the ashes. Their energies have been turned towards the blight that threatens the land," Lorianna told him.

"A blight. I was unaware of the blight. Perhaps they can atone. I have watched generations of my brethren take up the mantle of their fathers. For centuries they did this, unwavering, joyful in the task of protecting the Urn. But now they have lost their way. They have forgotten Andraste and their promise."

"What about you – how have you stayed so long when so many generations have passed?" Kadar inquired.

"I am all that remains of the first Disciples. I swore I would protect the Urn as long as I lived and I lived a very long time. This vow I made to Andraste and the Maker. My life is tied to the Ashes. As long as they remain, so will I."

"Where are the ashes kept? I need a pinch to save a noble man that may help turn the tide of the blight."

"You have come to honor Andraste, and you shall, if you prove yourself worthy. It is not my place to decide your worthiness. The Gauntlet does that. If you are found worthy, you will see the Urn and be allowed to take a small pinch of the Ashes for yourself. If not…"

"I understand. We will not leave here alive if we are found unworthy. Still, we must try," Kael replied.

"Before you go, there is something I must ask. I see that the path that led you here was not easy. There is suffering in your past …your suffering and the suffering of others. You abandoned your father and mother, leaving them in the hands of Rendon Howe, knowing he would show no mercy. Do you think you failed your parents?" the Guardian asked.

"Do I wish I could have saved them? Yes. Do I think I failed them? No. They demanded my sister and I leave. They did not want us to die by Howe's hand. They wanted us to get word out of his treachery and make him pay for his crimes against the crown."

"Then you do not dwell on past regrets."

Leliana shook her head. "What's past is past. Why bring it up and open old wounds?"

"And what of those that follow you?" the Guardian asked. "Kadar Adaar, mercenary for hire and apostate mage. There is much suffering by your hand. Your parents died because you were not there to protect them and then you became a mercenary and others died by your hand. Do you feel you failed your parents, both in their death and in what you became?"

"I did not fail my parents in their death. No child can remain at their parent's side forever. They must grow and live their own lives. And yes, I grew sick at what I was becoming, but I did something about it. I took over the company and have led it down a gentler path. I have atoned for my past," Kadar informed him.

"Then you have the strength to stand for what you believe. Leliana – why do you say the Maker speaks to you, when all know that the Maker has left? He spoke only to Andraste. Do you believe yourself her equal?"

"I never said that! I-"

"In Orlais, you were someone. In Lothering, you feared you would lose yourself, become a drab sister, and disappear. When your brothers and sisters of the cloister criticized you for what you professed, you were hurt, but you also reveled in it. It made you special. You enjoyed the attention, even if it was negative."

Leliana's brows drew together in frustration. "You're saying I made it up, for…for the attention? I did not! I know what I believe!"

The Guardian turned his attention on the last of the group. He would not find answers he sought from the other woman. She was in denial of herself. "You are unlike anything I have felt before. You have great power, yet it does not corrupt you. You have the wisdom to know when to show strength and when to let compassion guide your hand. I see only one regret in you. That you did not arrive in time to save King Cailan."

She should have known he'd bring that up, but she had not closed her mind off to him - though she'd made sure he knew she allowed him in by choice. "Yes, I regret that I didn't make it there in time, but I rode my mount as hard as I safely dared. I arrived in time to make his last moments better. I will always cherish the smile on his face as he passed."

"You were all that he loved in life. He stayed faithful to his love for you and refused to bed another. Seeing you one last time was all that he wished for when he lie dying on the field of battle. You gave him his dying wish. To see you and tell you he loved you…that was all he needed to pass to the Maker with a smile on his lips."

She ignored the tear that slipped down her cheek. "Why did you tell me that? I thought he was happy – at least content."

"He was content to wait for you, but that does not mean he would forsake his love for you. And now I sense your guilt. Why?" the Guardian asked curiously. "There is nothing you could have said to him that would have persuaded him to bed another. I do not think I have ever seen a greater mortal love."

"I love my wife!" Kael bit out.

The Guardian turned to look at him. "And so you do. But had the situation been reversed, if she had married Cailan, would you have remained celibate for years while she bedded another? Faithful to your love in hopes that one day she would return to your arms?"

His brows drew together. "That is an unfair question. That never happened, so I cannot know for sure what I would have done. Though, I'd like to believe I'd remain faithful to my love for her."

"Tell me," the Guardian said and he returned his gaze to the powerful woman, "what are you?"

It felt strange that the being before her would ask what she was. "My people come from the stars. There was a tear in the sky about twenty-two years ago and my mother's airship was pulled through."

"And you were with her." He stated.

"I believe she was pregnant with me," she admitted out loud for the first time.

"She was. My questions have been answered. The way forward is opened. Good luck, and may you find what you seek." He was engulfed in a bright light that faded to nothing.

"Well, that was uncomfortable," Kadar grumbled before pulling Leliana in for hug. "Enjoying the attention or not has no bearing on anything. I do not for a moment believe that you told _that_ story simply for the sake of getting attention. I know you believed in it."

"Thank you." She jumped up to grab onto his shoulders and pulled herself up so she could drop a kiss on lips before dropping back down.

-BREAK THREE-

They entered into another hall lined with spirits on each side. "Leliana – you know more about the story of the Maker and Andraste than any of us. See what you can do with these spirits."

"Of course, Kael." She walked over to stand before the first spirit on the right.

"The smallest lark could carry it, while a strong man might not. Of what do I speak?"

Leliana smiled. "That is simple. A tune."

"Yes…I was Andraste's dearest friend in childhood, and always we would sing. She celebrated the beauty of life, and all who hear her would be filled with joy. They say the Maker himself was moved by Andraste's song, and then she sang no more of simple things." The spirit vanished.

She moved on to the next spirit.

"An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. The debt of blood must be paid in full. Of what do I speak?"

"Vengeance," they all said at the same time.

"Yes, my husband Hessarian, would have chosen a quick death for Andraste. I made him swear that she would die publically, with Her warleaders, that all would know the Imperium's strength. I am justice. I am vengeance. Blood can only be repaid in blood." The spirit vanished.

She moved onto the next.

"The bones of the world stretch towards the sky's embrace. Veiled in white, like a bride greeting her groom. Of what do I speak?"

Leliana turned to the others and shrugged.

"Mountains," Lorianna replied.

"Yes. I carried Andraste's Ashes out of Tevinter into the mountains to the east where she could gaze ever into her Maker's sky. No more fitting a tomb than this could we find."

She moved onto the next.

"No man has seen it but all men know it. Lighter than air, sharper than any sword. Comes from nothing, but will fell the strongest armies. Of what do I speak?"

The words were poetic and she loved poems. "Hunger. You speak of hunger."

"Yes. Hunger was the weapon used against the wicked men of the Tevinter Imperium. The Maker kindled the sun's flame, scorching the land. Their crops failed and their armies could not march. Then He opened the heavens and bade the waters flow and washed away their filth. I am Cathaire, disciple of Andraste and commander of Her armies. I saw these things done and knew the Maker smiled on us." The spirit vanished.

She crossed the room to visit the second row of spirits.

"She wields the broken sword and separates true kings from tyrants. Of what do I speak?"

"Mercy," Lorianna replied. If given the chance, she would always show mercy.

"Yes. I could not bear the sight of Andraste's suffering and mercy bade me end Her life. I am the penitent sinner, who shows compassion as he hopes compassion will be shown to him." The spirit vanished.

She moved onto the next spirit.

"A poison of the soul, passion's cruel counterpart. From love she grows, till love lies slain. Of what do I speak?"

"Jealousy," Leliana said quietly.

"Yes, jealousy drove me to betrayal. I was the greatest general of the Alamarri, but beside Her I was nothing. Hundreds fell before Her on bended knee. They loved Her, as did the Maker. I loved Her too, but what man can compare with a God?" He vanished.

She moved on to the next spirit.

"I'd neither a guest nor a trespasser be, in this place I belong, that belongs also to me. Of what do I speak?"

"Home," Kadar responded. He had not had a home since the death of his parents.

"It was my dream for the people to have a home of their own, where we would have no master but ourselves. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, and thus we followed Andraste against the Imperium. But She was betrayed and so were we." He vanished.

She moved onto the final spirit.

"Echoes from a shadow realm, whispers of things yet to come. Thoughts' strange sister dwells in night, is swept away by dawning light. Of what do I speak?"

"You speak of dreams," Leliana told her.

"A dream came upon me as my daughter slumbered beneath my heart. It told of her life, of her betrayal and her death. I am sorrow and regret. I am a mother weeping bitter tears for a daughter she could not save." She vanished.

A shiver raced down Lorianna's spine. There were few things worse than not being able to save your children.

Leliana rubbed her arms. "That was bracing. I wonder what would have happened if we'd guessed wrong?" She shuddered. "Never mind, I'm glad we did not find out."

The moved through the doorway and came to a stop.

Kael blinked when he saw his father standing there.

"My dearest child."

"Though I wish it otherwise, I know you are dead father." He heard the others talking but tuned them out.

"I am beyond prayers and wishes now, my son. Let the pain of our deaths go. It is time. And despite what you now know, you were always my son. A son I loved deeply. You have a long road ahead of you, but you have the strength to endure it." He held out his hand. "This I will leave in your hands. I know you will do great things with it."

When his father vanished he looked down at the dagger in his hand. He slid it onto his belt next to his other dagger. He looked over at his wife. "Did you see my father?"

"No," she said with a shake of her head. "I saw my father. At least I think I did. I only saw him on a holo-disk my mom had. He said he is alive, though devastated by what he'd lost and that he has never stopped loving us or missing us. He said he'd felt my presence in her womb and is glad he finally had the chance to meet me. He told me he returns every year at the exact time and place where his wife and I were lost in hopes that the sky would open for him. But it never has. It is his endless vigil." She shook her head. "I know he can't actually be my father, but seeing him helped me bring closure to something that has bothered me for a long time. He gave me a locket that showed him and my mother together." She opened the snap to show him. Inside were two small pictures that were moving. In one they were dancing and in the second they were smiling and making faces. "There is no doubt left that I am Kyrian's daughter. I see me in him."

Leliana's heart ached for the man. To lose your family and to forever keep searching for them. No one should have to go through that. "I too received a locket from my mother. I couldn't remember what she looked like and that was like a dagger in my heart. Now, I will never be able to forget again," Leliana said, wiping a tear from her eye.

Kadar slipped the wedding rings into his pocket. "I saw my parents. They are proud of what I've done with my life. They told me I have many battles ahead of me and if I stay strong I will do great things." They'd also spoke of Leliana, but that was not something he cared to discuss just yet.

Kael nodded. "So we all saw what we needed to see. Interesting. Let us find out what more is in store for us."

The followed the passage to the left and entered another chamber where they were attacked by visages of themselves.

"Ignore the others; you must take me down first!" Lorianna cried in alarm and threw barrier bubbles up around her friends. She had never fought anyone like herself, at least not in anything more than playful sparring. The being seemed resilient, despite the arrows and powers that were being thrown at it. When she saw Kadar grab his throat, only to be attacked by her husband's alter ego while he was helpless, she harnessed the power put off by the lyrium that saturated this place and tore her hands away from each other, ripping the specter's head from its shoulders with a battle cry her father would have been proud of. That was something she'd done only a couple of times in her life, which is likely the only reason her alter self had not thought to do it.

She dropped to her knees in a wave of dizziness. The lyrium was an alien power source; she'd never pulled so much of it through her before and her body still pulsed with its echo. That is when she realized that it was, indeed, alive. Not in the manner of a breathing, sentient being, but alive all the same and it did not wish to leave her. She closed her eyes and focused on purging it from her system. A few moments later she felt her husband's presence and felt his arms around her."

"Remind me never to pick a fight with you," he teased. "Are you okay?"

She smiled faintly at his jest. "I probably should have tried my lightsaber, but I wasn't sure if it would have any effect on a spirit. I pulled on the lyrium for energy. When I tried to release it, it would not let go. It did not want to leave me." She reached up and gripped his armor. "It is alive, Kael. Not like you or me…but alive….and it has steeped in this place for many, endless years.

He rose, helped her to her feet and pulled her against him. "Then do not draw upon it again."

She rose on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his. "Using it would not be my first choice, but I'll be fine. Now that I am aware, I will be better able to separate from it."

"Gauntlet is right. It tests you on all levels," Kadar replied.

"Are you okay?" Lorianna asked him. "I'm sorry-"

He waved a hand to still her words. "You did nothing to me, Lor. That thing was not you. Now, I believe we have some lyrium enhanced ashes to find?" He wasn't quite sure when it happened, but somewhere along the line, Lorianna and Kael had stopped being a contract to him and started being friends.

In the next chamber they saw depression plates circling around each side of an open pit. "I can leap to the other side and pull you all over to me, but I'm not sure that would appease the Guardian or the Gauntlet…or whatever is judging us. So to be safe, we will solve this the hard way. She walked to the first depression plate on the right and stepped on it. A faint outline of block appeared over the pet. "Okay, honey – try the next depression plate." He did and the block became a bit more solid. "Leliana, try the next plate.

Leliana ran to the third plate. Nothing happened. She tried the next three plates and nothing happened. She ran around to the other side and tried the first plate. Nothing. By the time she reached the third plate the block was completely solid.

"Kadar – step onto the bridge. If the stone vanishes beneath you, I will pull you to safety," Lorianna assured him.

He nodded and stepped onto the stone. It was solid and did not wobble. But the adrenaline coursed through him like an electrical current. He knew that stone could disappear as quickly as it appeared.

In this manner of shuffling between the plates, they were eventually able to create a solid bridge. But what happened to the pilgrim that did not come with a group of people? A bare minimum of four were needed for this puzzle. Did that pilgrim have to wait around hoping someone would drop by before he starved to death? Or was the puzzle magically altered based on the number of people in your party? "I'm not sure I understand the reasoning behind the puzzle unless it was to see if we could work together as a team." Kael said with a frown.

"Perhaps it was to test our ability to handle frustration," Kadar pointed out with a booming laugh.

They passed through the hall to the next chamber and saw the Urn upon a raised dais. But the way was blocked by fire. "I…uhh…I….I don't know what to say…" Leliana stammered.

Kael stepped forward to look at the altar that stood in front of the flames. It was little more than a dusty stone pillar. Wait...there was something…he leaned down to get a closer look at the inscription. He read it aloud. "Cast off the trappings of the worldly life and cloak yourself in the goodness of spirit; king and slave, lord and beggar, be born anew in the Maker's site." He blinked.

"I have heard of some religions that use fire to purify. I think it is saying that we need to remove our clothing and walk through the fire to be born anew," Leliana explained.

"I will go first," Lorianna stated.

"What?" He did not like the idea of his wife walking through a fire with no protection. "You are not even Andrastian!"

She shook her head. "I'm not sure that matters. It said 'cloak yourself in goodness of spirit', it did not say 'cloak yourself in your faith in the Maker'. Besides, I can self-heal easier than I can heal another. Kadar has limited healing knowledge, so I am the logical one to go first. She laid down her weapons, removed her light armor and smallclothes and took a deep breath to calm herself as she walked into the wall of fire and out the other side. She covered herself as strategically as she could and turned to look at the others. "Join me. Just accept what is to happen and know that you will be okay."

She grinned as her husband covered himself with both hands as he stepped through the fire. Since he'd used two hands instead of one, he was obviously thinking of more than just crossing the wall of fire. "If Kadar has caused that reaction in you I will be so displeased," she teased.

He blinked. "I can't even believe you said that – even in jest." He couldn't have stopped himself from responding to her even if he wanted to.

She tilted her head when she saw Kadar. She'd never really looked at him before, at least not there. "I thought you'd be bigger."

Kadar blinked and looked down at himself. "I am well enough equipped, I think. If I were any larger, I would not be able to make love to my woman." He wasn't sure what she meant by that comment. He had to be careful with an elf and some humans - he dared not even try a dwarf. There was nothing small about him. He looked down at Kael, who had not been able to successfully cover himself with two hands and laughed. "Now, I understand," he said with a laugh. "You need to pay attention to other naked men. Your husband is not exactly built like most humans."

Kael frowned. "No, she does not," he groused.

The spirit Guardian reappeared. "You have been through the trials of the Gauntlet, you have walked the path of Andraste, and like Her, you have been cleansed. You have proven yourself worthy, pilgrims. You may dress now; the fire will no longer touch you. Approach the Sacred Ashes."

Kael nodded. He was relieved. He may not be a practicing Andrastian, but he had no desire to approach her Urn unclothed.

When they were clothed they walked back through the fire and approached the Urn. He pushed a small vial from a loop on his belt. "Each of you have passed the Gauntlet as well, take a small pinch. We do not know what lays ahead and we may need all the healing help we can get."

He climbed the steps of the dais to where the Urn sat before a statue of Andraste.

"I never dreamed I would ever lay my eyes on the Urn of Sacred Ashes…I…I have no words to express-" she shook her head and leaned against Kadar when he rubbed her back. He may not believe in the Maker, but he supported her belief.

Kael reached in and took a pinch of the Ashes and tapped them into the small vial. He scraped his fingers on the edge of the vial to get any that clung to their tips and then sealed the vial. He slipped the vial back onto the loop on his belt and stepped aside so one of the others could take a pinch.

When they were done, they exited through a door at the base of the dais. They followed the stone tunnel back up and stepped out into the light of day once more. The surface path led them back to the dragon's body. They passed it and saw a door they had not used before. Thankfully, it led them back into the main temple and they did not have to go back through the caverns.

They headed down the stairs to reach the main hall where they'd left Brother Genitivi and their mounts.

Ferdinand smiled. "Welcome back! You were gone for quite some time. Were you able to locate the Ashes?"

"We did." Kael pulled out the small vial that contained the ashes and showed it to the Brother.

Ferdinand looked down at the vial, nearly touched it and took a step back. "Is that – oh, Maker…I'm not worthy to look upon…" He shook his head. "What…what was it like? Reaching the Urn, I mean?"

Kael slipped the vial back into the loop on his belt. "We had to pass tests of worthiness to reach the ashes. Bodies along the way showed what could have happened had we failed."

He blinked. "Trials…I had not expected… Maker, you were very fortunate. And so am I. Perhaps my research will not seem so much like blasphemy to the Chantry now. We must organize and expedition. There is so much history here, it must be studied. And…and pilgrims should be allowed to come to the Urn."

Kael frowned. He wasn't sure opening the way to all and sundry was a good idea. "Be careful, Brother, lest those that come destroy what you seek to study. Man has a way of destroying that which he touches, even if his intent is pure. Do as you feel you must, but the choice…and thus the consequences are yours to bear."

Ferdinand bowed. "Of course, my King. I must return home. I have much to do. If you ever find yourself in Denerim, please visit me. I am not a rich man, but I have a small collection of interesting…artifacts – and I do owe you a reward for coming to my rescue."

Kael grinned. "You owe me nothing. I do not accept rewards for doing what is right. And you did help us get into the temple, if that eases your mind," he pointed out.

"Be that as it may, I would still like to give you something that may help against the blight. I hope to see you soon, my King."

"You may stop off at Haven to have that foot looked at, if need be…and do not worry, we have come to an understanding with the Haven villagers – I think you will find it to be a different town now. Go in peace, Brother. We need to get to Redcliffe." Kael inclined his head to the older man and took his horse's reins to lead him out of the temple.

Dusk fell over them almost halfway to Redcliffe and settled into a clearing for the night. They would have to make do with the dried foods and water they had, because it was too dark to hunt and there were no sources of water. No matter, they could easily reach Redcliffe in a few hours come morning.

Leliana poked the fire with a stick absently. "What we went through – talking to spirits, receiving a gift from someone no longer in our lives, fighting our evil selves, walking through fire to reach the Urn of Sacred Ashes, which was believed to only be a myth. It all seems so surreal – as if it happened in a dream. Even if all else were possible – how did we receive a gift from a spirit? Lor's visitor wasn't even from our world. It makes no sense to me," Leliana admitted.

Lorianna shook her head. "I don't know, Le…Of all that happened today, that remains a mystery I have no answers for. Our visitors couldn't have been pulled from our minds, because I had never seen my father before. A holo is a vague shape, it does not show colors and contours – and yet my father, Kyrian, appeared very real, not vague as I'd seen him." She pulled out the locket. She ran her fingernail over the metal. "I do not even recognize this as a metal we have here. I do not know what it is made of. The pictures…moving. Such a thing is not even possible here. Someway – somehow, our visitors were real. There is no other logical explanation." She had thought that seeing him had given her closure. But she missed him more with each passing moment. He could never take the place of the father that loved her and raised her as his own, but she needed him in her life. And his loss was more acutely felt now.

Deep in their own thoughts, they laid down with their lovers and pulled their blankets up over them.


	6. A Thedas Tale Ch6 - Redcliffe

Dragon Age

A Thedas Tale

Ch 6 - Redcliffe

Morning light came sooner than they wanted it to. A bush stop later, they mounted and ate from their dried rations on the move. They had around thirty five miles to go, they should make that by the afternoon, if they do not make too many stops along the way.

Normally, they went straight to the castle, but road had been gated off and there were, oddly, no soldiers in sight to let them in. So they continued on towards the village. When they reached the outskirts of Redcliffe they paid to stable their mounts and legged it into town. A man was waiting for them on the bridge.

"I thought I saw travelers coming down the road, though I scarcely believed it. Have you come to help us?" Thomas asked, hoping, indeed, that was why the well armed group was here.

"This is Redcliffe – why are you surprised to see anyone, why is the castle road barred and why do you need help?" Lorianna inquired.

He blinked and looked over at the pretty blonde. "Then you don't know? Has no one out there heard?"

"We known Eamon is ill, that's why we're here, but the road to the castle has been barred," Kael told him.

Tomas nodded. "It has been barred because we are under attack. Monsters come out of the castle every night and attack us until dawn. Everyone's been fighting…and dying. We've no army to defend us, no arl and no king to send up help. So many are dead, and those left are terrified they're next."

"What is attacking you?" Kadar asked.

Tomas looked up at the horned giant. "The dead are attacking us, but no one knows why. I should take you to Ban Teagan. He's all that's holding us together. He'll want to see you."

Lorianna smiled. "I would like to see Teagan. I thought he'd be in Rainesfere. Please, take us to him."

"Please…follow me." Tomas led them down into the village.

Lorianna waved to a few familiar faces she'd seen at the castle on their trek to the chantry. She was stunned to see people lying on the chantry floor, children crying, and the hopeless look on the faces as she walked by them. "Teagan she said with a smile," as she approached him.

"Your Ladyship! You are a much needed sight for sore eyes." He gave her a hug and then stepped back to look up at the horned giant. "Your..uhh…guests are very welcome too."

"I don't need a hug," Kadar informed him with a grin.

"Er – thank you," Teagan replied to the giant, grateful the man had not asked for a hug.

"Teagan, what's happening? We came because we'd heard the Eamon was ill. We're here to help him, but we could not get to the castle, the road has been barred and then we were told that the dead are attacking at night," she shook her head. "Is it some kind of magic?"

Teagan frowned. "Magic or maybe blood magic – I don't know, your Ladyship. No one seems to know for sure, we only know the dead started attacking after my brother fell ill."

"Teagan – enough of the formalities. I'm still Lorianna."

"Forgive me, Lor. I am distracted and not myself. But-" He studied the man next to her. "You look like…"

"Like Maric? Like Cailan? Like Alistair? Yes to all, take your pick. I am Kael Theirin, next in line for the throne and I have every intension of calling a Landsmeet and taking my throne back from that traitorous rat, Loghain."

Teagan's heart thudded hard in his chest. He knew of Alistair, but he'd been unaware that king Maric had a noble son. A smile spread over his lips. This was the news he so desperately needed. He'd considered Alistair, but Kael was far more suitable to be king. "Kael Cousland –then you are wed to Lor? You're the Teyrn of Denerim?"

"She is my wife and while I may have thought otherwise, Cousland has never been my name. But, yes, I'm the Teyrn," he answered, not quite sure where this was going.

"This is wonderful news! Ferelden is being torn apart by Loghain. If there was ever a time that Ferelden was in need, it is now. With you and Lor on the throne we can stop the civil war and bring peace to Ferelden so that we can finally focus on the blight."

Kael nodded. "That is why we are here. We need Arl Eamon's support at the Landsmeet. That is - assuming that you do not believe in Loghain's lies?"

He shook his head. "Not at all. Loghain would have us believe all the Grey Wardens died along with my nephew and that he pulled his men to save them. He claims Cailan risked everything in the name of glory. Loghain calls the Grey Wardens traitors, murderers of the king. I don't believe it. It is the act of a desperate man. Naught but lies, I say."

He was relieved Bann Teagan was not taken in by Loghain's deceit. "A handful of Grey Wardens survived, five to my knowledge. And Loghain was not in a position to see the battlefield clearly; that is why he needed a beacon lit to let him know when to bring his army in to attack the darkspawn flank. When the beacon was lit, he quit the field, leaving everyone to die. He worked with Rendon Howe to attack my family, removing a man who would stand against him, just as I'm sure we'll discover he was behind Eamon's illness. We have yet to find out if he's done anything to the rest of my family, the Wulff's. Those three and I are the biggest threat to him keeping my throne. Maric wrote three missives, one of which would be read by the archivist upon Cailan's death. The archivist was found dead and the missive went missing. The other one was in Maric's room, also likely gone. I have the third missive safely hidden away. So there is little doubt that Loghain knows who I am and that I am coming for him…and my throne."

Teagan rubbed his temples. "The Teyrn has grown mad with power. I told him as much when he claimed himself regent. At the time I thought our only hope lie in Alistair, but you and Lor will be accepted far easier than Alistair would have. My nephew…he is one of the Grey Wardens that survived?"

"Yes, Teagan. My younger brother lives. I have him seeking aid from the mages to fulfill the Grey Warden treaty they signed long ago. What of Eamon, have you been to see him?"

He shook his head. "No. No one has heard from the castle in far too many days. No guards patrol the walls, and no one has responded to my shouts. Then the attacks started a few nights ago. Evil…things…surged from the castle. We drove them back, but many perished during the assault."

"You are referring to the dead that we were told about?" Kael asked.

He looked down for a moment to gather his thoughts and then looked at Kael. "Some call them the walking dead; decomposing corpses returning to life with a hunger for human flesh. They hit again the next night. Each night they come, with greater numbers. With Cailan gone and Loghain starting a war over the throne, no one responds to my urgent calls for help."

Lorianna placed her hand on Teagan's arm. "We are here and we will stand with you tonight, Teagan."

A sigh of relief slipped from his lips. "Thank you! Thank you, this…means more to me than you can guess."

"Teagan…you and Eamon are family friends. There is no need to thank us. If we'd have known of your plight, we'd have tried to come sooner. As it is, we'd heard that Redcliffe knights had been sent out to find the Urn of Sacred Ashes to heal Eamon, so that is what we were doing. We located the Urn and were allowed to take a pinch of the ashes to heal him."

For the first time in a long time, his heart swelled with hope. "You – I can't believe this. You found the Urn? You have the Ashes? Oh, Maker be praised – I love you," he said as he pulled her in for a hug.

Kael frowned. "Teagan, stop loving my wife. Too many love her as it is."

Teagan grinned and released Lorianna. "I shall try to contain my love for her," he teased. He turned to the man that had escorted the group in. "Tomas, please tell Murdock what transpired. Then return to your post.

"Yes, my Lord. I will tell him that you are in love with the new king's wife." Tomas, teased.

"Tomas!" Teagan chided. "That is a secret," he said with a chuckle.

"Yes, my Lord," he said with a put upon sigh. "I shall keep your secret then." He inclined his head and then walked away.

He returned his attention to Kael. "Now then. There is much to do before night fall. I've put two men in charge of the defense outside. Murdock, the village mayor, is just outside the chantry. Ser Perth, one of Eamon's knights, is just up the cliff at the windmill, watching the castle. You may discuss with them the preparations of the coming battle. I will stay here at the chantry. I am the last line of defense for those that cannot defend themselves. Both of you-" his gaze slid to the giant and the woman at his side, "all of you, stay safe out there tonight." He frowned. "I – I wish there was another way. You two are far too vital to risk on the front lines."

"We have faced worse than a few dead, Teagan. Do not worry about us. If we do not get the chance to see you again this eve, then we will see you in the morning," Lorianna assured him.

Teagan watched them walk away with a heavy heart. "We need you," he murmured. "Come back to us safely, your Majesties."

Lorianna came to a stop in front of a young girl. She bore much sadness. "Are you well?"

"No," she said with a shake of her head. "Those…those things dragged my mother away. I don't know what happened to her, but I hear her screaming all the time, everywhere!"

Leliana's heart broke. "How terrible! You poor thing…I wish there was something we could do to help."

Kaitlin wiped the tears from her cheek. "I – and now my brother, Bevin…he ran off. I…I don't know where he is! I'm so scared they got him, too!"

Lorianna took her hand and squeezed it. "We will be scouting the village, so we will keep a look out for him. We'll send him back here if…when we find him."

"You will? Thank you so much! I – just thank you," she wiped at her cheek again.

When they stepped out of the chantry she turned to Kadar and Leliana. "Kael and I will head up to windmill and speak with Ser Perth. I'd like you both to talk to Mayor Murdock; we need to do whatever it takes to make sure everyone is in top form tonight. Help any way you can and keep an eye out for the boy. When you've done all you can, grab something to eat and a few hours sleep if possible."

Kadar frowned. He did not like them wandering off without him, but he could see the reason for splitting up. It would take twice as long if they stayed together, which meant less time to sleep and it looked as if they were not getting any tonight. He nodded. "We will meet up with you soon."

When they walked away she grinned up at her husband and took his hand. "You know – I think I gave them the easier job. They don't have to walk up the side of a cliff."

She rubbed her backside after reaching the top of the steep incline.

"Greetings..." He blinked. "Your Ladyship! I did not expect to find you here. You should leave before night fall. I would not wish to see anything happen to you."

She grinned. "Greetings to you Perth. It is good to see you again. And I am afraid you are stuck with me. My husband and a couple of friends are here to help in the coming battle."

"I-" he frowned. "I am not in a position to turn away help; all I ask is that you be careful. Your mom will have my head if anything happens to you. Have you spoken to Bann Teagan? I know he will be pleased to see you."

"Yes – I was taken to him the moment we came into town. I am assuming you were not sent out to find the Urn with the rest of the knights?" she asked.

"No," he said with a shake of his head. "I have only just returned from an unsuccessful search. Would that I had chosen not to seek out the Urn, perhaps I would have fended off whatever evil befell the castle…or perhaps I would be dead. Ah, well. With you and the renowned Kael Cousland to aid in our defense, perhaps all is not lost."

"It is Kael Theirin. I only recently found out I have never born the Cousland name," Kael corrected.

Perth smiled. "Then I have far more to be thankful for than I knew – and far more to be worried about as well. You must both come out of this alive."

"As will we all," Lorianna replied. "And we've already located the Urn and have the ashes required."

Breath rushed from his lungs. "I – that is amazing news! We feared it was a hopeless quest for something that didn't exist. Glad am I that I was wrong. For the first time since the Arl fell ill I have hope. It is unfortunate that so many of us are still out there, searching for what has already been found, unaware of what is happening here."

"Do you know what happened to Eamon?" she asked.

He shrugged. "We were never certain. He thirsted for water and then grew weaker and weaker. We brought in a mage but even that did nothing. The Arlessa believed he was cursed and that we needed the Urn of Sacred Ashes or he would surely perish. The Arl once employed a scholar, Brother Genitivi, whose research showed the Urn to be in Ferelden. So we knights volunteered to search for it."

She nodded. No one knew much about Eamon's illness. "Is there anything we can do to help you get ready for the battle?"

"We have sufficient armor and weapons, but my knights are too few to stand against the monsters without assistance. Perhaps you could approach Mother Hannah in the chantry for some holy protection against these evil creatures? Otherwise, we're as prepared for the onslaught as we could possibly be, all things considered."

"I'll see what we can do," she assured him and turned for the long trek back down the steep incline to reach the chantry. Teagan has his back to them, deep in some kind of discussion, so she left him to his business and gave her attention to the old woman ministering to the villagers.

"Yes, your Majesties, what can I do for you?" Hannah asked. When she saw their surprise a small smile formed on her lips. "I am old, but not deaf."

Lorianna grinned. "Of course, Mother. Ser Perth wishes for holy protection for the knights to give them courage to face the battle tonight."

She rubbed her forehead. "What Ser Perth seeks is something that is not in my power to give. He believes that I can protect them against these creatures, a shield only the Maker can provide, and that I withhold this power from him."

Kael frowned. "There has got to be something more that can be done. Morale is a powerful weapon that can turn the tide of a battle."

Hannah blinked. "You mean you want me to let them think the Maker protects them in a real sense? I will not lie to them like that," she said with a shake of her head.

"I will protect them in the real sense- but what you can give them is belief - the mind can do amazing things if it believes," Lorianna pointed out.

Hannah frowned and released a slow breath. "Very well. If it keeps them alive, I will do what I must. I have a number of silver-cast holy symbols. Tell Ser Perth that he can have them, and that wearing them will confer the Maker's protection in the coming battle. Now, please….let me tend to these poor folk, your Majesties."

"Thank you, Mother Hannah," Kael said with an incline of his head.

They ran into Kadar and Leliana outside the chantry. "Save us a trip up that dreadful hillside and tell Ser Perth that we located a large supply of oil that could be used to set fire traps against the dead."

"Thanks, Kadar. We'll tell them." She groaned. "Though my backside is going to disown me with too many more trips up to the windmill."

Kadar laughed. "We are off to try to change the mind of a blacksmith that refuses to mend armor."

"Good luck with that," she said with a wink. "Okay…butt to work…or back to work..though both are pretty accurate."

"Do you need me to carry you?" Kael teased as they ascended the hill.

She shot him a sour look. "Oh, hush – though I might have you massage sore muscles later on."

He grinned. "That would most certainly be my pleasure."

Perth smiled at their return. "You are back faster than I thought you'd be. Did you have any luck with the Mother?"

"We did," Kael told him. She has holy amulets that will confer protection for the coming battle."

Perth inclined his head. "I will send some men to collect the amulets. Thank you, your Majesties, for your help. The men are exhausted; this is what they need to give them the will to keep fighting."

With that, they hurried back down the hill and up to the tavern to pick up some more supplies to replenish their dwindling supplies of dried food. The tavern had less patrons than there were in her past visits. She located Lloyd behind the counter. Not the most agreeable of fellows, but hopefully he had a few supplies. "It's been awhile, Lloyd. How's business?"

"My Lady, it has been awhile. Haven't had many travelers lately. All this nonsense is bad for business. Bet you regret coming this time, yes?"

She shook her head. "Not at all, Lloyd. We're here to help Redcliffe. We'll be aiding with the battle tonight and then pushing on to the castle to see if we can put an end to this _nonsense_ ," she said, repeating his use of the word.

"Brave words, my Lady. Well, we'll see when night falls, won't we?" Lloyd asked.

"You will be there, will you not?" she inquired.

"Me? No. I'll hide in the cellar until this blows over. Safer that way," he commented.

"Lloyd, you know you could earn the men's respect by at least going to the chantry and standing with Bann Teagan as a last line of defense protecting the women, children and elderly. It would show that you were willing to do something to help the town during its time of need. The men would be far more willing to spend coin here if they knew you cared enough to stand with them," she pointed out.

Lloyd frowned. He did not like the idea of fighting, he was no soldier. But earning the men's respect and coin did appeal to him. He cleared his throat and raised his voice."Fine, my Lady. I will go to the chantry and stand with Bann Teagan to protect the helpless in the battle tonight."

"Thank you, Lloyd. That is very brave of you. This is my husband, Kael Theirin, Teyrn of Denerim and next in line for the throne. Your willingness to take as stand will be remembered. And now to business. We need to purchase dried goods."

Lloyd blinked. Theirin. From Arl's daughter, to Teyrna to the next queen. Lorianna had done well for herself since he'd last seen her. "Thank you –er…your Highnesses." He said after they'd purchased most of the dried goods he had available.

She inclined her head to him and turned to leave. A sense of dread and uncertainty radiated from an elf sitting at a table nearby. It wasn't the sort of fear she'd sensed in others. It was something different, though she could not put her finger on it. She approached the elf to find out what was wrong.

"Not looking for company," he told her in a clipped tone.

Kael frowned. "Shouldn't you be with the militia?"

"Why? I don't live here," he replied bluntly.

"I see," Kael returned coldly. "Since you are not helping then you are just waiting here to die? Sounds like a strategic, well thought out plan."

She could feel the sense of alarm building in the man, more than the fear of nightfall…no, he was hiding something. "You're hiding something."

"I –uh…have no idea what you're talking about," the elf said with a shake of his head.

"Don't you?" she asked with a quirk of her brow. "Deceit roils in you like a snake." She waved her hand at the elf. "You want to tell us everything."

"Please…I need to tell you everything! This is more than I ever bargained for. Look, they paid me to watch the castle and send word if anything should change. But they never said anything about monsters! I haven't been able to report anything since this started! I'm stuck, same as you, I swear!"

Kael crossed his arms over his chest. "Who paid you to watch the castle?"

"A tall fellow, I forget his name. He…uhh…said he working for Arl Rendon Howe. He's an important man! Teyrn Loghain's right hand! So I didn't do anything wrong!

Kael's eye twitched "I am an important man too. Kael Theirin. Teyrn of Denerim and heir to the Ferelden throne. Rendon Howe massacred Teryn Cousland and his family. Loghain left my brother to die on the field of battle. Both men will pay for their crimes against the throne – and I want proof of what you say!"

He blinked. If this man was king…then Loghain and Howe were traitors. It felt as though the floor just dropped out from under him. "Here – take this. This is a letter from them. It has instructions and everything…keep it! I don't want it! Do whatever you want with it!" He shook his head. "I thought Loghain was king…I thought I was serving the crown and making a bit of coin on the side. I never would have accepted the assignment if I had known otherwise. I want no part of this...this...clash of titans."

Kael took the parchment. "You will make up for serving a traitor by defending Redcliffe tonight."

Relief flooded through him. The king wasn't going to hang him. "All…all right. I'll do it. Thank you – thank you for your mercy. I won't forget your compassion, your Majesty!" he jumped up from the bench he'd been seated on and made a quick dash out the door before the king could change his mind.

Kael shook his head and sighed. "I'm sorely getting tired of Loghain's treachery. This cannot end soon enough for me. Let us go see how Kadar and Leliana fare."

-BREAK ONE-

They left the tavern and hurried back down to lower Redcliffe. The pair in question were heading towards them and he could see the hilt of a massive sword strapped on Kadar's back. "Are you now a warrior mage, my friend?" he teased.

"Thinking about a change of career." He flexed his arm muscles. "I've got the muscle for it."

Kael's laugh was hearty. "That you do."

Kadar grinned. He pulled out the blade and showed it to Kael. "This is a qunari sword. A dwarf I pushed into fighting tonight thought I was coming to claim it. He damned near threw the thing at me. I guess he thought I intended to kill him over it. Who was I to refuse his _gift_?" Kadar shrugged. "As you are aware, Sten is missing his sword. I cannot know if this is Sten's sword, but I thought it would mean more to him than the one he carries."

Leliana pursed her lips. "Maybe that will finally melt some of the ice Sten is always shooting at Kadar." She pushed a lock of red hair behind her ear. "We found the boy hiding in a cabinet in his house. He wanted to brave, but he was ashamed that his bravery exceeded his size. He is back with his sister now. The smith has also agreed to go back to work. We just had to promise to find his daughter at the castle and make sure she's safe. I figured you would have insisted we find her regardless."

"Of course I would," Lorianna agreed. "We discovered that Howe and Loghain were having the castle watched by a spy – a spy that will now help defend Redcliffe," she said, pointing to the elf archer. "It is my assumption that they wanted to make sure there the castle was focused on Eamon and not preparing to send troops to Denerim. They likely know Teagan has taken charge in his brother's absence and Teagan is part of the civil war against Loghain's illegal seizure of the throne – all the more reason for them to have the troop movement watched. Regardless, we've done what we can. Now, it is time to retire to the Inn for food and rest until nightfall."

They all turned their heads at the sound of raised voices.

"No! I will tell you nothing! You have no business here, elf. I suggest you leave Redcliffe while you still can. Now leave me be," Mayor Murdock growled.

Lorianna could sense the desperation in the elf and did not want to risk an escalation. She jogged over to the mayor. "I will speak with her. I know you have a lot on your mind right now, Murdock."

Murdock frowned. "Your Ladyship, she is just an elf. No need to concern yourself."

Her lips tightened. She hated bigotry. The land would always remain divided so long as bigotry remained. "Thank you for your concern, Murdock. But no one is _just anyone_ to me. And her concerns are now mine. We will join you this evening. Until then, fare thee well," she said in dismissal. She smiled at the elf that was still shooting glares as the mayor. "Please, come with me. We were about to retire to the Inn for a meal. Join us."

Angelia blinked as the woman's words and identity sank in. "Your Ladyship? You are the Teyrna of Denerim?" That was the only Ladyship left alive – it had to be her.

She took the woman's arm and began walking her towards the Inn. "I am. My husband Kael is beside me and Kadar and Leliana are behind us. Might I ask who you are?"

"Thank the Maker – the Creators – hell, thank anyone that ever lived. I am Angelia Tabris. I've come from the alienage in Denerim seeking help." She followed them into the Inn and settled in a chair around the table they'd chosen.

"Is this about Vaughn?" she asked. "If so, Tayln only recently gave us all the details. Had we known sooner we would have dealt with him ourselves and Tayln would not have been forced to give up everything he knew."

She was stunned. The Teyrn and Teyrna knew Tayln? "You know my cousin? Is – is he alive? He left with the Grey Wardens – we have heard nothing since. Cyrion worries about his son."

Lorianna reached out and patted the dark auburn haired elf's hand. "Tayln is well. He and the other Grey Wardens have joined with us to end the blight. Please, tell us what is happening."

Angelia smiled in relief and nodded. She looked up when a waitress came for their order. Since she lacked much coin, she did not order anything. She blinked when Kael ordered an extra plate of the lunch special. "I'm not here seeking hand outs," she replied with a small frown on her face.

Kael tilted his head. "You are the family of one of my men. I do not consider it a handout, nor should you. I am treating you with the courtesy I would expect him to show to my family."

Angelia felt her cheeks grow warm with embarrassment. "I'm sorry; I did not mean to offend. Few of any race treat elves with courtesy."

"And that is something I hope to change once I take my throne back and defeat the blight," Kael assured her.

She nearly swallowed her tongue. "Take – take your throne back?"

Leliana giggle. "We have all had that reaction when we found out. Except Kadar, here," she said bumping his arm with her shoulder playfully. "But then he knew before he even found them. Kael Theirin is Cailan's brother and next in line for the throne."

Her mouth fell open and then slammed shut. If she was sitting with the king and queen, maybe something would get done. "So you are a Royal bastard?"

Kael laughed. "Only to those that deserve it."

Angelia raised her hand to her mouth to stop the laughter, but failed. "I like you. Loghain is another matter. He will not even hear our complaints. After Loghhain returned from Ostagar, Arl Howe claimed some sort of elven uprising and sent his men into the alienage to kill. Not even the orphanage was spared, children, women, elderly – the men did not care who they killed. My family helped me sneak away so that I could bring back help. I don't – I don't even know if they still live – or if there is anyone left alive in the alienage."

A vice gripped Lorianna's heart when a realization dawned on her. "Angelia…" her hand tightened on the elf's. "You are the one Tayln told us about. His cousin that had gone missing – that is why they chose you to leave." They wanted to ensure nothing like that happened to her again. Oh, sweet hell. She could not begin to understand what it had been like to be chained to a depraved man's bed for months. No one should have to suffer like that.

Angelia cleared her throat. "I am not that woman anymore. She will always be a part of me. I will not forget her, but I am stronger than she ever was. "

Lorianna nodded. "I understand. You need to know that it breaks my heart that my hands are tied right now. We cannot return to Denerim without an army at our backs. That's why we are here. We will save Eamon and he will support us at the Landsmeet. They Grey Wardens are out solidifying their treaties, so that we will have enough of an army to take the throne and fight the blight. I know that is not what you wanted to hear. Too many sacrifices have been made - I can't even help my own family who are falling under the blight. We cannot deviate if we hope to succeed."

A breath rushed from Kael's lungs. "Lor…they – they've fallen?"

"I - not completely. I can sense their pain, their anger …even desperation. But I – I no longer feel my brother, Wilhelm…"

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked in voice harsher than he intended.

She wiped the tears from her cheeks. "There is nothing we can do to help them. I would give almost anything to go home and make sure they get to safety – you know I would! But not at the cost of Ferelden. Ferelden's needs come before mine."

Angelia nodded. These were the leaders Ferelden needed. Not a fanciful king or a tyrannical regent. These were shem she could stand behind. "Then I will join you. I need you in Denerim, which means I will do whatever it takes to help you raise an army, claim your throne and defeat the blight." She flicked a crumb off the table. "I know my reasons for helping are ultimately selfish, but I'd like to think I would have helped even if I did not need help in return."

Kadar grunted. "It does not matter the reasons for helping, only that you did. For me it started out as a job. I was paid to protect the king and queen. But it has become more than just that to me."

Leliana grinned. "I first joined to please the Maker. Now I am here because I care about these wonderful people and I believe in them."

"I first joined to find my brother, who was at Ostagar," Kael told her. "Now I stay because Ferelden needs me to. It has become both a duty and an honor."

Lorianna sat back when the waitress sat the platter in front of her. "Only Grey Wardens fight selflessly. Everyone else has a personal or selfish reason - even if it is only to impress a commanding officer or a father or even a sense of pride. Pride is ultimately selfish. I do not think there can be a wrong reason to fight the blight. Regardless why we fight, we know that we may not survive to see the end of the battle; so reasons – selfish or not, mean little. So I formally welcome you to our League of Paladins."

After dinner was over, Lorianna rose from the table. "I'm going to take Angelia to the chantry and introduce her to Teagan, since he's the coordinator. Get rooms. We'll be back shortly." She giggled when he pulled her off her feet for a kiss that left her breathless. No doubt to remind her what she'd be missing out on if she was gone too long. Point definitely taken.

"Come, I'll have you meet Teagan and then you should get some rest. You can get the key to your room from the innkeep. We just arrived at Redcliffe today only to learn that the dead attack Redcliffe village all night long. The dead come from Redcliffe Castle. Come morning, we will try to find a way to the castle. We need to know if anyone is alive over there and we need to find out how to stop the attacks."

She pulled open the chantry door for Angelia and then joined her. She smiled when she sat Kaitlyn and Bevin talking quietly to each other. "So you are the Brave Bevin who wanted to fight with a sword to protect the village." She knelt down in front of him. "There is no shame in being unable to life that sword. It takes years of practice and dedication to build up the strength to swing a blade. But you, Master Bevin, will do great things with your grandfather's sword one day. Now that I have said it, it will be so – cause I am never wrong." She grinned and winked at him. "Ask anyone, they'll tell you the same." She rose to her feet and untied two small coin pouches. The one that had contained coppers was nearly empty. She deposited five hundred silvers into the nearly empty copper purse and then drew the drawstring tight. She tied her silver pouch back onto her belt next to her gold pouch and handed the third to Kaitlyn. "There are five hundred silver in there," she said quietly. "I don't want to see you and your brother separated in some orphanage. If you have family – go to them. If you don't then purchase a place of your own."

Tears of joy slipped down Kaitlyn's cheeks. "Oh, thank you! We have family in Denerim. We'll be safe there. I - I don't know what to say. Oh Bevin – can imagine? We are going to Denerim!" She beamed at generous woman. "Thank you – just thank you."

Lorianna grinned. "Find me in Denerim. I am Lorianna Theirin. Find me and I will make sure you have a decent job. Stay safe you two." She winked at Bevin and turned to find Teagan.

Angelia tilted her head. That was a lot of coin. "Are you always that generous?"

"No. I am under no false illusion that I can help everyone. I would empty the coffers trying to do so and that would be irresponsible. No, my help is usually far less grand. But if I sense a need, I will do more – if I can." She hurried over to Teagan and pulled him around for a hug.

He grinned and hugged her back. "It is good to see you again, Lor. I didn't think I'd see you again till the morn. Never have I been more glad to be wrong." He released her and looked at her companion. Dark auburn waves, pale green eyes, a lithe figure and breasts larger than he'd expected to see on an elf. She was small, but stunning in every aspect. "I did not think anyone could rival your beauty, Lor. But it seems I was wrong."

"Teagan!" she teased with a laugh.

"Nearly rivals, your Majesty. Nearly rivals. You will always be the fairest in the land," he corrected with a smile. "And who is this lovely woman?"

Lorianna rolled her eyes. "Hush, Teagan. Bann Teagan Guerrin of Rainesfere, this is our newest member of the League of Paladins, Angelia Tabris of Denerim."

He lifted the auburn-haired beauty's slender hand to his lips. "It is very much my pleasure to meet you, Lady Angelia."

She laughed softly. "You do realize I'm elven?

"My Lady, I see only a beautiful woman." He bowed over her hand and released it. "Would that the timing of our meeting had been better, but one never knows what the future will bring. Perhaps, you will see me again at a more opportune time?"

"Perhaps I will," she said with a grin. "Is there anything you want me to do?"

That question sent his mind into places it did not need to go. He squared his shoulders and paced a few steps away to hide the flush in his cheeks. "Surviving the night comes to mind. Other than that, no. Please eat and rest, if you have not already done so. The night will be long and we must remain sharp." He quirked a brow at Lorianna. "League of Paladins, Lor?"

She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot. "It adds dramatic flair – don't judge, Teagan!"

He held his hands up in surrender. "Never, your Majesty. Now, go get your rest," he said with a shooing motion. "I need to get mine as well. Until we meet again, ladies." He bowed and then disappeared into another room.

"You heard the man," Lorianna said as she led them back out of the chantry.

"Is he always like that?" Angelia inquired?

"A charming flirt? To some degree. Usually, it is more light flirting or playful teasing. He was pouring it on thicker than normal. I rather think you caught his attention."

Angelia kicked a small rock with her boot. "While I admit I enjoyed the attention, I will not let myself be used by a shem…no matter how charming he is."

She could well understand Angelia's reluctance to trust a human. Very few humans have treated elves fairly and she'd already had a nightmarish experience. Still, Teagan was not just any human. "It was obvious you were attracted to each other. Give him a chance…talk to him. I don't think you'll be disappointed. I've known Teagan for years, he's a good man and he may surprise you. The Guerrin men are not swayed by popular belief and are not afraid of controversy. They stand their ground and do their own thing."

That was interesting to know. "I will take that under consideration."

Lorianna was given her room number and Angelia her key from the innkeep and they retired to their rooms for a rest before nightfall.

Lorianna stretched. The shadows were long in the room and the light growing dim. "It is nearly time to send the dead back to ground. We will also have to see about having the corpses burned. They cannot reanimate if they are naught but dust."

They took turns with the chamber pot, splashed cool water from the water pitcher on their faces and hurried down to the chantry. The other three of their party had just arrived. Murdock explained to them where the dead usually invaded from.

Kael rubbed his chin. "Since the main invasion occurs near the castle road gates then we will head up to Ser Perth and help the knights. Send word if you are being overrun and will return. Until then, stay safe and don't spread out too far. There is safety in numbers….unless the dead can wield magic?"

Teagan exhaled harshly. "No, thank the Maker. So far, they have only attacked with maces or swords…and that has proven deadly enough." He looked out over their makeshift militia. "Everyone not fighting get into the Chantry now! Maker watch over us all." He then looked at Kael, Lor and Angelia. "Stay safe out there and may we meet come morning." He inclined his head and retreated to his position with Lloyd to defend those inside the chantry walls.

They hurried up the incline to join Ser Perth and his knights. "Ser Perth, we will advance up the hill, light the barrier fire behind us. Angelia, stay back with the knights, you can do more damage with your arrows at a distance."

"No," she said with a firm shake of her head. "These daggers are not just for show. The more dead we destroy before they reach the knights; the more likely they are to survive the night."

Kael nodded. "I will accept your judgment." He led them past the barricade. "Now, Ser Perth!"

Arrows were lit and the barricade burst into flame. Moments later a magical fog rolled down from the castle, the walking dead in its wake. Lorianna held her hand up, lifting the first group in the air and crushed their necks before releasing them. She blinked when they rose, heads sagging to the side in loose skin, bouncing and rolling with each step. "Well, shit," she mumbled. That didn't work. She should have considered that. Normal damage wouldn't work. Corpses didn't breathe, they didn't bleed and they had no heart to damage. "Take their heads! Kadar – slow them or burn them…or just use the sword end of your stick!"

Kadar chuckled. "That's why my _stick_ has a sword end," he boasted as he arched his staff out to behead a corpse that got too close. "And thanks, Lor – now they just look more hideous."

"Perhaps a little more practice with your sword is needed," Leliana teased as her daggers flashed.

Kadar sent a quick glare at her. "Now, that's just not nice." He mumbled a spell to raise a group of dead and smash them down against the ground. The spell wasn't strong enough to do much damage, but it did slow them down.

"Prove me wrong, if you dare!" Leliana quipped.

"Consider the challenge accepted!" he shot back.

"You can let a few come through, your Majesties – my men are getting bored," Perth yelled over the din of the undead.

"Fine! We'll share. We're not glory hogs. Here they come!" Kael shouted back as he backed off to pursue corpses closer to the gate.

"Speak for yourself," Kadar teased. "Glory for the League of Paladins!" he shouted, making fun of the name the queen had given them.

"Glory for the knights of Redcliffe!" The knights yelled back. They lifted their swords in the air as they sounded their battle cry in the face of the advancing, burning corpses.

She felt panic and fear wash over her. "Kadar! Your stick is needed back in town!"

"I'd like to back him up," Lelian put forth.

"Go!" Kael told her. "We've got this!"

Throughout the night the undead came in waves. In between the waves they tossed the downed corpses into the flames – Every last one of them was thankful the smell was not much worse than the decayed bodies had been. After the first rays of the dawning, they waited another half an hour. No more dead came down from the castle.

Perth skirted the barrier fire and joined them further up the hill. "That's it for the day. We'll head back down to the town. We need to haul the bodies back up here to burn, but we'll handle that. Check in with Murdock and Bann Teagan. It was an honor to fight alongside you, Paladins," he said with a grin.

Kael shook the knight's hand. "Likewise, Ser Perth."

-BREAK TWO-

They could hear the cheering as they descended the hillside. The chantry doors were thrown open and townsfolk were gathered out front. A few brave souls were spitting on and or kicking at the corpses that littered the ground. Kadar was already helping the men folk carry the undead up the hill. Kael touched his wife's arm. "I'm going to help with the cleanup."

Teagan frowned. No…no...no…It was nice that the king wanted to show his support, but there were more important things that needed taken care of. "Wait, your Majesty. I must talk to you. The knights and the villagers are more than willing to handle the clean up. There is a warm breakfast waiting for you at the Inn. We will eat and then we will talk." He held the crook of his arm out to Angelia. He noted her hesitation, but smiled at her when her arm slipped into his."

"I'll wait for Kadar to come back down and then meet you at the Inn," Leliana told them.

They followed Teagan and Angelia back to the inn, washed off with a pitcher and basin and settled at table that was laden with food. A few minutes later Kadar and Leliana joined them.

"We must not tarry over breakfast. There is still much to do," Teagan warned.

Lorianna nodded. "You mean taking back the castle."

Teagan inclined his head. "I do. But we will discuss it soon. Eat now; you will need your strength."

"You are expecting more trouble, even though it is not nightfall?" Angelia asked.

He nodded. "I fear that is so, otherwise someone would have been able to venture forth from the castle during the day. I fear something far worse is going on."

"I agree. How did you get to Redcliffe?"

"On horseback, of course," he teased. When she pursed her lips and arched her brow at him he smiled. "After my brother stopped responding, Isolde sent their knights out to find the Urn of Sacred Ashes and sent a messenger to tell me what happened. The castle was already closed off by the time I arrived, so I have been doing what I can for his people." It was hard to take his eyes off her enticing pale green eyes. "What of you, my lady?"

"I came here seeking aid for the Denerim alienage. Loghain refused to hear us and the two main forces that stand against him is Arl Eamon and Arl Wulff. Redcliffe was closer," she told him.

Lorianna didn't want Angelia to have to repeat her story. "Teagan – Urien Kendell's son, Vaughan, stole women during a wedding at the alienage to rape them – or worse. Their fiancé's reclaimed them and Vaughan was killed in the process. False rumors were spread of an elven uprising after soldiers came to arrest the men involved with Vaughan's death. They used these lies to go on a killing spree. That is why she came here to seek aid."

"That is reprehensible. If I knew of anyone behaving in such a manner in Rainesfere, I would have them publically flogged and hanged. Noblemen should lead by example," He shook his head. "Men like that sicken me and demean us all." His gaze locked onto the queen's. "Did you know nothing of Vaughan?"

"No," she said with a shake of her head. "Likely, Urien saw need to sweep his actions under the rug to protect his only heir." Denerim was a large city with constantly roiling emotions and as such it made it more difficult to tell one pain from another. Nor was it possible for her to respond to everything she did sense. "We _will_ look into what is going on after we gather our army for the blight and return to Denerim for the Landsmeet."

He noticed everyone was done eating and rose. "It is a shame, but that is all that can be done at the moment. I am sorry there is no time to rest further. Please come with me. There is something that needs to be done before we head up to the windmill." He held the crook of his arm out to Angelia and led them from the Inn.

The villagers were still carrying bodies up to the fire, but they did so with smiles on their faces and laughter on their lips. He nodded to Mother Hannah. "Attention, please. Join us for a moment. You can resume your duties forthwith." He waited for a few minutes for the others to return from on high. Soon, there was a crowd of townsfolk and Redcliffe knights. "With the morning sun, we have survived the night. We are victorious! No lives were lost this night! Victory was achieved because of the heroism of these good folk beside me. Truly, the Maker smiled on us when the rightful king and queen of Ferelden and their League of Paladins arrived here in our darkest hour. We cannot thank you enough for what you have done for us all."

Lorianna smiled at him. "Teagan, you are family and Redcliffe has welcomed me with open arms for many years. We need no thanks. What happened here was a joint effort. You have all shown the spirit of heroism in this time of need. We are proud to have stood beside Redcliffe's people to defend her against evil. "

Teagan chuckled. "I'm the one giving the speeches here, not you, Lor."

Hannah pursed her lips to keep from smiling. "While tonight was a victory, Redcliffe still mourns. Let us bow our heads and give honor to those that have given their lives in their defense of Redcliffe. Now they walk with He who is their Maker. Long may they know the peace of His love."

"With the Maker's favor, the blow we delivered today is enough for me to enter the castle and seek out your Arl. Be wary and watch for signs of renewed attack. We shall return with news as soon as we are able." When the villagers went back to their duties he turned to the king and queen. "Now, we've no time to waste. Come with me to the mill. We can talk further there." He held his arm out to Angelia and proceeded up the hill.

Teagan walked to the edge of the cliff and looked over at the castle. "Odd how quiet the castle looks from here. You would think there was no one inside at all. Though, I hope that appearances are deceiving. But I shouldn't delay things further. I had a plan…" He turned to face the others. "To enter the castle after the village was secure. There is a secret passageway here, in the mill, accessible only to my family. And, apparently, to an adventurous lass I'd caught in the passage more times than I care to admit." He aimed a mock glare at Lorianna who was already turning away from him, His eyes grew round with shock when he realized why she'd turned. "Maker's breath!" he murmured when he saw Isolde hurrying towards them.

Relief filled Isolde to see the familiar face. "Teagan! Thank the Maker you yet live!"

"Isolde! You're alive! How did you…? What has happened!"

Isolde shook her head. "I do not have much time to explain! I slipped away from the castle as soon as I saw the battle was over, and I must return quickly. And I…I need you to return with me, Teagan. Alone."

Kael frowned. "With what has happened, I do not think that is a good idea."

Isolde turned a narrow gaze on the man who had dare to interrupt her. "What? I..who is this man, Teagan? Why is he interfering like that?"

Teagan sighed. He did not need this right now. "Isolde, he is the rightful king of Ferelden. Kael Theirin, his wife – Lorianna…you remember her? I owe them my life. Redcliffe owes them much more."

She blinked at the news. The king? And she'd just upbraided him? "I am sorry, your…Majesty. I did not know there was an heir." She looked at the woman at his side. "Yes, I remember you, my..uh…queen. I am sorry; there is little time for pleasantries."

Kale inclined his head. "I am aware of that, but we must have some answers."

She barely spared the elf standing next to Teagan a glance. "I know you need more of an explanation, but I…I don't know what is safe to tell. Teagan, there is a terrible evil within the castle. The dead waken and hunt the living. The mage responsible was caught, but still it continues. And I think…Connor is going mad. We have survived but he won't flee the castle." She looked over at Lorianna. "My son has seen so much death!" Surely a woman would understand that. "Please, let him help us!" She turned back to Teagan. "You are his uncle. You could reason with him. I do not know what else to do!"

"Is Eamon still alive?" Lorianna inquired.

She nodded. "He is. He is being kept alive so far, thank the Maker."

Kael frowned. That did not sound good. "Kept alive by what?"

She closed her eyes for a brief moment. "Something the mage unleashed. So far it allows Eamon, Connor and myself to live. The others were not so fortunate. It's killed so many and turned their bodies into walking nightmares! Once it was done with the castle, it struck the village! It wants us to live, but I do not know why. It allowed me to come for you, Teagan, because I begged, because I said Connor needed help."

Kadar's lips tightened. A demon or a blood mage – he could not think of anything else that would be capable of this. Though it was doubtful a blood mage could have maintained the control needed to keep the Arl's family alive. "Do you think this _evil_ could be a demon?"

Her heart stilled. Not her sweet boy. "I – I do not know. Oh, Maker's mercy! Could it truly be a demon?" She looked at the king. "I – I can't let it hurt my Connor! You must let him come back with me! Teagan! Please!" she said as she turned to her husband's younger brother. She rubbed her forehead. "I do not have much time. What if it thinks I'm betraying it?" She gripped her hands together in fear. "It could kill Connor! I will beg, if I must!"

Teagan wanted to go, but the choice was not his to make. Not with the rightful king here. "My king…we need my brother's support to ensure you take the throne."

Kael nodded. He could probably take the throne with the backing of the other nobles who were friendly with him and his wife, but it would be far easier with Eamon and Gallagher at his side. "Of this, I am aware. Return to the castle with her, Teagan." They would have to use the passage Teagan had told them about earlier. He was not about to leave Teagan alone for long.

She released a harsh breath. "Oh, thank the Maker! Bless you, my king," she said with a bow.

Teagan inclined his head to Kael, reached for Angelia's hand and then looked to his brother's wife. "Isolde, can you excuse us for a moment? We must confer before I return to the castle with you."

"Please do not take too long. I will be by the bridge," Isolde informed him, before she turned away to give them the moment he'd requested.

Teagan watcher her and her knight for a moment and then turned to face Kael and Lor. "I will go in with Isolde. You five may enter the castle through the passage in the mill. I'm sure you remember it well, Lor. My signet ring unlocks the door." He lifted Angelia's hand, placed his ring on her palm and folded her fingers over it.

She looked down at the signet ring. One corner of her lips curled up into a smile. "Oh my…a ring? You shouldn't have. It's a little early…what's a girl to think?"

Despite the gravity of the situation, he could not stop the grin from forming on his lips. "Oh, hush now. It's not every day a man gives a woman a ring."

"And I thought I moved fast," Kadar quipped.

Leliana shook her head. "So we are just going to send him with that woman? It seems so dangerous!"

Kael nodded. "I don't like it, but it will have to do."

"I don't like it either. I'd rather go in with you, but there seem to be little choice. Ser Perth and his men can watch for danger at the castle entrance. If you can open the gates from within, they can move in and help you. Whatever you do, Eamon is the priority here. Isolde, me and anyone else…we're expendable."

"Teagan, shut up before I put you on your ass," Lorianna growled.

Teagan chuckled. "Fine. My ass prefers to be right where it is. Then all I ask is that you not take unnecessary risks. Ferelden needs you both."

"Teagan?" Angelia asked quietly.

He looked down at her and smiled. "Yes?"

She flushed under his gaze. "I...uhh…ask the same of you. No unnecessary risks."

He took her hands in his. "I have just given a beautiful woman my ring. I have much to look forward to."

When he leaned down to brush a kiss against her cheek, she turned so that their mouths met. "For luck," she murmured against his lips.

He lifted a hand to graze his fingertips over the porcelain of her cheek. "It is only right that I give you luck as well." He captured her lips and when they parted beneath his, he could not resist the temptation to taste her. He pulled back with a shaky exhale. Her kiss had affected him in a way he'd not expected. His thumb caressed her cheek. "I must go. Stay safe. We have much to talk about, when time allows." With a last look back he hurried over to the bridge to enter the castle with Isolde.

Her hand rose to touch her tingling lips as she watched him walk away. For the first time in her life a shem's touch had given her something other than pain. Perhaps they did have much to talk about. When she noticed the others were staring at her, she cleared her throat and lowered her hand. There was nothing she could do about her pink cheeks. "Yes…I'm ready. Let's go."

Lorianna showed her where the hidden door was and she used the ring to unlock it. She climbed down the ladder and then moved to the side so the others could come down.

"You know," Leliana teased as she glanced down at her naked finger, "I don't have a ring and you've known me longer."

"Oh hush," he said as he gave her bottom a playful swat. "You insulted my manly pride not long ago, telling me I needed more practice with my sword and now you want a ring?"

She batted innocent eyes at him. "Of course, Kadar. You will need a lot of practice and that would raise eyebrows if you do not make an honest woman out of me."

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning. "You are so wicked. But I will promise you, my Lea – in front of these witnesses," he said determined to call her bluff, "that the day you get down on one knee and propose to me, I will put a ring on your finger." A grin spread across his lips knowing he'd upstaged her.

Oh no – she was not going to let him win this one. He wasn't calling her bluff, she was calling his. She took his hand and dropped down on one knee. Her eyes sparkled with humor seeing the shock on his face. "Kadar Adaar, will you bind your life to mine, forsaking all others until the Maker calls us home?"

He couldn't breathe. He thought for sure she'd give in, but she actually proposed to him. Was she serious or was she calling his bluff? Did she want him to agree or was she hoping he'd laugh it off? If he reacted in a way she didn't like, would he lose her? She touched him in a way no one else ever had. He didn't want to lose that. The problem was, he didn't know what she wanted. He didn't want to scare her away by accepting or piss her off by laughing. If she was serious, was he even ready for marriage? Was she? No, if she was serious, then obviously she was ready. But was he? Maybe. He'd been with more than enough women to know this one was special. He found a woman that made him feel alive inside and he had no desire to bed another. But what if this was all just her calling his bluff? No matter the gauntlet was thrown and this was a challenge he was not willing to step away from, come what may. "Leliana NiOisine, I will bind my life to yours, forsaking all others until death us do part."

She was wrong. It had been no bluff. It took a moment for her heart to stop racing and her world to tilt back into place. He had pulled her to a stand and she hadn't even registered as much. She blinked when she saw him pull two rings from his pocket; her hand was shaking when he slid the smaller ring over her thumb.

"I know it's big – I'll have it resized when I can. These were what I was gifted by the spirits of my parents during our quest for the Urn. My mother told me you would be my wife, but I – she couldn't know that. But here we are – in a castle of rotted dead…engaged to be wed. She already knew what I was too blind to see. I love you, my Lea."

She could swear she was grinning from ear to ear like a fool, but she didn't care. Her last vestiges of worry had fallen away. He loved her. She sprang up against his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck to keep from falling. "I love you too, my beautiful ox-man."

"Hey!" he said with a slight frown. Though, the words did not sound at all derogatory coming from her lips.

"Oh hush." With his arms firmly holding her in place, she reached up to stroke his horn. "I adore how horny you are. I wouldn't want you any other way!"

He kissed her and then settled her back down on the cellar floor when Kael started laughing.

Kael slapped his back. "Congratulations! You picked a hell of an unromantic place – but love has mind of its own. Now, if I can pull you two back to the present…we have a castle to save."

"And we have company headed our way!" Lorianna interjected. "Time to find out what's behind door number one."

Kael stepped in front of his wife, open the door and rushed through. He ignored the cries for help and focused on the three walking dead. They were flung against the stone prison wall to the right before he could reach them. One had impacted an iron cell door with such force that its head became lodged through the bars, its helmet caved into its skull. It moved in a disjointed manner. It was severely injured, but by no means mortally so. But for the moment, it was contained and he focused on the other two.

He held up an armored arm to accept the blow from its mace and swung his sword to take its head. The other was dead by the time he'd finished. Someone had also shown mercy…or perhaps disgust and dispatched the trapped corpse.

Jowan heard the sound of battle, but he could see nothing from his cell. The corpses had rushed towards whoever had stepped into the dungeon. When silence fell he feared the worst. "Hello? Is there anyone alive out there?"

Lorianna motioned towards the cell further down on the left. "I felt him before I felt the others."

Jowan's brows drew together in confusion when he saw the five that approached him. Was the castle under attack by another force now? "You don't look like the Arlessa's guards. Are you from outside the castle? If you have chosen to invade, this isn't the safest time to do so."

Kael folded his arms over his chest. "We are not invaders. We are freeing the castle. Are you the mage Isolde told us about?"

"Yes? I don't know. Maybe? My name is Jowan. I'm a mage Lady Isolde hired to tutor her son, Connor. She needed an apostate to train him to conceal his magic so she would not lose him to the Circle. She knew the Arl would do the right thing and she couldn't let that happen."

Lorianna's eyes narrowed. "Jowan? From the Circle? Elvie's friend? The man that wanted her to betray the Circle and Irving – the man she looked upon as a father?"

Jowan closed his eyes and bent his head. "Yes. I wasn't thinking clearly when I asked her. I'd just found out I was going to be made tranquil and I was terrified. My love, Lily, and I were caught when we tried to escape. My phylactery was destroyed, but out of fear I used blood magic to try to free Lily and myself, but in doing so, I lost everything that day. I am haunted by my actions every night, but haunted even more by the fact that I would do it again. I – no one deserves the fate of the tranquil, I would rather die. If you return to the tower, will you tell Elvie I'm sorry? Please, I beg this of you, even if she can never forgive me."

A slow breath slipped from her lips. "Elvie is not at the tower. Irving knew about what you were planning and tried to force her into leading you into a trap. It broke her that her friend and a father both wanted her to betray her heart and her morals. She lost everything that day too. She ran, but was caught. The templars were going to kill her or make her tranquil. But she was rescued by a Grey Warden. She did not arrive in Ostagar in time to officially join the Wardens, but she did join me. She is one of my League of Paladins."

He turned and paced to the opposite end of his small cell. He covered his face with his hands. Everything had gone so wrong. His hands fell limply to his side and he stared at the filthy floor. "I should have just taken my own life." He looked over at them bleakly. "My freedom from tranquility was not worth everything that happened." His hands fisted helplessly. "I have no way to atone for what I've done. I will die here, but perhaps that is what I deserve."

"Are you responsible by everything that has happened here?" Kael asked.

He returned to the cell door. "No! I…I poisoned Arl Eamon, but that is all I did. I- I know this looks suspicious, but I'm not responsible for the walking dead or the killings in the castle. I was already imprisoned when all that began. At first, Lady Isolde came here with her men demanding that I reverse what I'd done. I though she meant my poisoning the Arl. That's the first I heard about the walking corpses. She thought I'd summoned a demon to torment her family and destroy Redcliffe. I wouldn't do that! I have done things I regret, but I'm not a murderer." He shook his head. "She…had me tortured. There was nothing I could say or do that would appease her. So they …left me to rot."

"You say you poisoned Arl Eamon, but nothing more…as if that were a trivial matter. He is family to us and Ferelden needs him now more than ever. Why did you poison him?" Though, Kael believed he already knew the answer. Loghain.

"I was instructed to by Teyrn Loghain. I was told Arl Eamon was a threat to Ferelden, that if I dealt with him Loghain would settle matters with the Circle. Since I had used blood magic to escape, I was condemned to death. The templars brought me to Denerim to await execution. The Teyrn came to see me…alone. He said I could make up for my crime. He said I'd be helping Ferelden. I thought Loghain was giving me a chance to…redeem myself - but everything's fallen apart and I'm responsible!" he gripped the bars of the cell door. "I have to make it right somehow, I have to!"

"Eamon is a threat to Loghain keeping a stolen throne. My throne. That's why we are here. To save Eamon, take back my throne from the traitor and end the blight," Kael stated coldly.

"Your throne?" Jowan asked in confusion.

" _My_ throne. I am Kael Theirin, next in line for the throne. Loghain and Rendon Howe will pay for their crimes against Ferelden and my families."

Jowan stumbled back a step from the cell door. This was worse than he had imagined if Loghain was a traitor that meant he was too. He held his hands up in surrender. "I didn't know. I swear it. I thought I was helping the king – helping Ferelden. I would never have agreed if I'd known the truth. You have to believe me!"

"I do," Lorianna said. "There is no deceit in you." Guilt nearly overwhelmed her. "If I had returned to the castle sooner, I would have felt the change in Connor – I would have known he was a mage, but I was too busy. I might have been able to prevent any of this from happening."

Kael grabbed his wife's arms and gave her a gentle shake. "Lor – stop it! Don't you dare take the blame for what has happened here! Loghain is at fault. Not you." He brushed his lips against her forehead and then released her. "If Connor is a mage, could he have summoned the demon? Maybe to save his father?"

Jowan nodded. "I fear that may be the case. Nothing else makes any sense. Connor has little knowledge of magic as of yet, but he may have done something to tear open the veil – maybe it was fear for his father's life. Please…I need to atone for what I've done. Let me help you!"

Leliana could not help but feel sorry for the mage. She'd done a lot of questionable and even vile things and been given the chance to start a new life. Everyone deserved that chance. "He wishes to redeem himself. Doesn't everyone deserve that chance?"

"If they truly do intend to atone, then yes they deserve the chance to redeem themselves. Jowan has shown some serious lapses in judgment and I'm not talking about Loghain because he did not know about him," Lorianna told her, "but there is no deceit in him and he means what he says." She returned her attention to the man in the cell. "Jowan – you will be released under these conditions: You will join my League of Paladins and remain under my supervision. Kadar and I will mentor you," she motioned towards her companion. "Elvie too – if she is willing. And you will never again touch blood magic – for any reason." While she, herself, had no issue with blood magic – it was just another form of magic, but it was obvious Jowan did not have the strength of will or the proper judgment to use such a powerful magic. Some risks were not worth taking.

He looked up at the horned giant and blinked. What was he? No – it didn't matter. It was more than he dared hope for. He knew that without their help he would just end up in trouble again. She was right, his judgment was not the best, but maybe with their guidance he could learn and be more than he was. "I – you would let join you?" He shook his head; he did not need her second guessing her decision. "Of course! I want the chance to atone; I know I have faults, but I'm willing to work on them. I – I accept your terms."

She nodded. "Leliana, will you please pick the lock to release him?" After Leliana unlocked the cell she took a step back to allow him to exit the hold. "We will get you some light armor and a staff when we can. For now," she removed the sheathed dagger from her belt and handed it to him, "you can use this to defend yourself. You must take the head off the dead or they will keep coming. Angelia – stay at his side for now; protect him if he needs it. When we reach the main hall, I want you and Jowan to remain out of sight. I do not want to risk him angering Connor – if he is the one who is responsible for this. We will let you know when you can enter the main hall."

"Thank you – thank you for giving me this chance." He wanted to tell her he would not disappoint her, but the mistakes of his past showed that he might not be able to hold up to that promise. He would do his best to not cause her to regret her choice though.

"Let's move then," Kael stated now that Jowan had been dealt with. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of a former blood mage in their party, but he trusted his wife's judgment. She had a way with people and maybe Jowan would come out the better for it.

-BREAK THREE-

They took the stairs up to the main floor and fell into another nest of dead. This time, they noticed, some were unarmed, which made sense as some soldiers may have died unarmed and apparently the dead were not smart enough to grab a weapon if they did not die with one in their hands. But their fists packed a hell of a punch. There were also dead that appeared to wield magic, which was vastly different than the dead that attacked the village. Oddly, there were more than a couple. How many mages did Eamon have at the castle? Had they been apostates or did the Circle release a number of them to him to strengthen his army? No way to know for sure. At least, they did not carry a staff to focus their magic and thus their spells did not hit as hard as they otherwise would have. Still – how could they wield magic at all since they did nothing but growl and groan? Some things, apparently, defied explanation.

They went from room to room on the main floor, clearing out corpses. They had hoped to find someone alive, but that didn't happen…at least not until they discovered a door off the main hall. There was an ash-blonde woman cowering in the small room. Kael blinked when she screamed at him.

"Please – don't hurt me!" Valena cried.

He certainly didn't think he looked that frightful. "Do not fear us. We are here to free the castle from whatever has taken it over," he told her.

"I -I'm sorry," she said as she wrung her hands together. "There are monsters everywhere! I – I am Valena, the Arlessa's maid. Is she…all right? What happened to everyone?"

"Wait – Valena…the smith's daughter?" Kadar asked.

She cringed when she saw the massive, horned giant. "Y-yes. You know my father?"

He nodded. "He asked us to look for you. He will be relieved to know you are safe."

"What about the Arlessa – the others?" she asked.

"We saw her not long ago, she was fine then. I don't know what happened to everyone else yet – that is what we are here to discover. You should leave, Valena. We have cleared a path." Kael pointed back down the hall. "Take the main hall down to the dungeon. There is passageway out of there that will take you back to Redcliffe's mill."

"Thank you! I can run fast and I know the castle. I- just…thank you!" Valena darted around the group and raced down the hall in the direction she'd been told to go.

"At least we found one pour soul alive," Leliana said quietly. It was small in the wake of the reality, but it felt good.

"Through here!" Lorianna said as she hurried through the kitchen prep room's side storage. "There is a door in here that leads down the root cellar. We'll be able to get out to the main courtyard through there."

"I'm glad that you were a sneaky little girl," Kael teased his wife.

She stuck her tongue out at him. "I prefer the term _explorer_ , husband dear."

He grinned as he stepped in front of her to descend the stairs first. They crossed the small cellar and ran up the steps in the courtyard. A arrow flew by him as they ran across the court yard. He looked up steps leading to the main door to find skeleton archers aiming at them. Well, this just kept getting better and better. He raised one of his daggers and threw it at a skeleton. It rammed through his eye socket and flung the skelton backwards, impaling it on the castle wall, the dagger's hilt locked against its eye socket. It could still fire arrows, but its ability to aim was extremely hampered. He felt something wrap around him and he was yanked the side of a very tall…thing.

Lorianna saw what happened, reached out towards her husband and pulled him back to her. The thing turned to look at her and she gave it a one finger salute. It did not appear to appreciate the gesture because it slammed its sword into the ground and she found herself hurtling towards it. She pulled her lightsaber from her magbelt and ignited it. She swung the blade when she'd nearly reached it. It dropped her and she grinned as she stared into eye sockets that burned. Its legs gave and its torso slid from its hips to hit the ground a moment after its legs did. When it began to pull itself towards her, reaching out with its hands, she shook her head. "I don't think so." Her lightsaber came down and its head rolled down a small hill. She turned to help the others, but the only thing left was an archer. She threw her lightsaber at the creature. Its head hit the stone with a cracking sound and her lightsaber returned to her hand.

Jowan blinked at what he'd just seen and shook his head. He took the head off the impaled skeleton and yanked the dagger out of the wall to return to the king. He wasn't sure what she was, she didn't act like a mage, but he felt a lot better about being under her supervision. There was a lot he could learn from her even if she wasn't a mage. These…Paladins, she'd called them. They were a very talented group and they looked out for each other as though they truly cared for each other. He always felt like he never really belonged. That he was always on the outside looking in. Maybe it was all in his head, maybe it was reality. But that no longer mattered. What he'd been allowed to become a part of – it gave him a sense of togetherness – of brotherhood and that was something he'd never experienced before. He hurried down the stairs to join the others and handed the dagger to the king, hilt first.

At Kael's nod, Kadar lifted the lever to open the portcullis and let Ser Perth and the knights in.

Perth looked at the woman who would be queen and said nothing. He and the knights agreed that they saw nothing. "We wanted to help, but all we could was watch and pray to the Maker that you survived. What was that thing?"

"I don't know," Kael said with a shrug. "Like the others, it was some kind of dead revenant. Just a hell of a lot stronger. Let us adjourn to the great hall and see if we can find any answers."

Angelia laid a hand on Jowan's arm. "We will follow from the rear and stay out of sight until we are told to enter."

"This is my mess, it doesn't feel right just waiting," he admitted.

"Lorianna is a well trained diplomat..and the queen. If she thinks it is best for us to stay back, then we will. We cannot risk any negotiations that might occur. She has an uncanny way of knowing things that she shouldn't be able to know. I haven't known her long, but I respect her and I trust what she knows." Lor had been on target with Teagan. The man liked her and held no fear of showing those feelings publically. He did not want her as some hidden mistress behind closed doors. What remained to see was what he did want her for.

They entered the castle, walked through the small foyer and came to a stop just inside the great hall. Teagan was dancing around as if he were the court jester. Teagan enjoyed humor and teasing, but this – he hard far too much pride to ever act like a bafoon. Something was very wrong.

Lorianna held her hands to the side to keep anyone from moving closer. "There is an evil presence here." Her gaze settled on Connor and she closed her eyes. "Connor…is not alone…approach carefully and try not to set him off." she murmured softly.

Teagan turned to look at them, smiled ridiculously and sat down on the step next to Connor.

Connor frowned. "So these are our visitors? The ones you told me about, mother?"

Isolde lowered her head. She loved her son, but she was terrified of him. "Y-yes, Connor."

Connor's eyes narrowed on his mother. "And these are the ones that defeated my soldiers? The ones I sent to reclaim my village?"

"Yes," she said, unable to look at her son.

"And now they are staring at me! What are they mother? I can't see them well enough," he grumbled.

"They…one is just a man, like your father. Two are women, like me. There is also an elven woman and…and the other man is very large," she explained to him.

"I am tired of hearing about my father! Besides, he is nothing at all like father. Look at him! Breathing and not dying in the slightest! I could change that, mind you…and the women are young and pretty, nothing like you, mother. But that thing with the ears…I should cut them off, like I did with the others and feed them to the dogs!" His eyes narrowed on the big man. "Is that horns, mother? Was his father an ox? Maybe he will taste good in a stew!" He threw his head back and laughed.

She faced her son and held her hands out towards him beseechingly. "C-Connor, I beg you, don't hurt anyone!"

Pain…pain in his head. He raised his hand to try to clear his thoughts. "M-mother? What…what's happening? Where am I? I - I don't feel well."

Her baby! It was really him! She knelt on one knee. "Oh, thank the Maker! Connor! Connor, my son, stay with me!"

The dark...the dark was coming back – filling him…pushing him under again. He raised his hands to his head, but he could not stop the tendrils of dark from pulling him under. "Get away from me, fool woman! You are beginning to bore me!"

She stumbled backwards and rose. "My king…please don't hurt my son. He's not responsible for what he does! Connor didn't mean to do this! It was that mage, the one who poisoned Eamon – he started all of this! He summoned this demon! Connor was just trying to help his father!"

Kadar shook his head. "The mage did not summon the demon. Your son did. A demon will never help someone – that is a lesson your son never had the chance to learn."

What did these people know? "It was a fair deal! Father is alive, just as I wanted. Now it's my turn to sit on the throne and send out armies to conquer the world! I am the king here – not you," he growled, turning his glare on the man who believed himself king. "Nobody tells me what to do anymore!"

"Nooobody tells him what to do! Noooobody!" Teagan agreed with a booming laugh.

"Quiet, uncle! I warned you what would happen if you kept shouting, didn't I? Yes, I did. But let's keep things civil. This man – who is _not_ king… will have the audience he seeks. Tell us...what have you come here for?"

Lorianna pushed out a wave of calm.

"I came here for Eamon."

Connor blinked and shook his head, fighting to maintain control. He would not let the brat resurface. "So you're a concerned well-wisher. Why didn't you say so? All this sneaking around and killing was so unnecessary! But father is so very ill. We really shouldn't disturb him. Isn't that right, mother?"

Her brows drew together. "I…I don't think…"

"Of course you don't. Ever since you sent the knights away, you do nothing but deprive me of my fun. Frankly, it's getting dull. I crave excitement! And action! These…people have spoiled my sport by saving that stupid village and now they will repay me!"

Lorianna pulled in more energy and released a stronger wave of calm, directing it at Connor, trying to lull the demon within so that the son could return before something worse happened.

"Stop doing that!" he growled at the woman and then ran from the room before he lost control of the child again.

"Try not to kill anyone! Blunt force only – which means no weapons." Lorianna shouted when the guards and Teagan attacked them.

This fight was far more difficult. Trying not to overly hurt people trying to kill you – it was no easy task. Lorianna gripped the two archers in her power and squeezed their necks, cutting off their ability to breath. When they stopped moving, she lowered them gently to the ground and began using her power to rip the swords and shields from the others.

"If you don't know how to fight – dodge and distract, we'll take them down!" Kael shouted as he began using the moves his wife had taught him.

Leliana and Angelia distracted the soldiers while the other three fought with their fists. Well, one of them did, the other two moved quickly, using their bodies in ways the women had never seen before. They were like whirlwinds in some sort of synchronized dance that only they knew the steps of. They watched Lorianna step away from a flying fist and then she grabbed Teagan's arm and threw him over her shoulder; he landed hard on his back, the breath knocked out of him. When she moved on to the next man, Angelia rushed to his side and dropped down next to him. She placed her fingers against his neck to make sure to make sure he was okay.

In a blink his hands were around her throat. She swallowed hard and moved her hand slowly down to a tender location. If he squeezed, so would she. She waited for his hands to tighten, but they didn't. The strange light in his eyes dimmed and they moved up to cup her face.

He couldn't understand why his hands were around her throat. He slid them up, his thumbs caressing her cheeks. "You're alive…you're here…" He blinked. "Why am I on my back?"

She moved her hands away from his most tender bits before he realized where they'd been. She blushed when she saw the look in his eyes. He knew exactly where her hand had been, he was just being too gentlemanly to say anything. She got to her feet and gave him a hand up. "Do you remember nothing?"

He rubbed his forehead. "I…I do. It was like a bad dream. I couldn't wake up. But…my mind is my own again." He pulled her into his arms and lifted her chin to examine her. "Did I…uhh…hurt you?"

She smiled and gave a slight shake of her head. "No…you stopped before you did."

He pulled her close and held her tight, his heart slamming in his chest. "I couldn't have born it if I'd hurt you." He kissed her forehead and then captured her lips. "I do not mean to be forward, but it would seem I've run out of luck and need a bit more."

"A kiss is not too forward for a man who has given a woman his ring," she pointed out with a grin.

How could he bring his mistress into her house and do such things in front of her? "Teagan! My home is not an Inn; you will not be so blatant with your…mistress in my home!"

Teagan's shoulders squared and he turned to face his brother's wife. "You are being rude, Isolde and it is not becoming. Angelia is not my mistress and I will not hide what I feel for her. She wears my ring and that's all you need know. If you wish me to leave…"

"No! No…I'm sorry, Teagan." Isolde raised her hands to her temples. "I would never have forgiven myself had you died, not after I brought you here. What a fool I am!" She turned to the others. "There must be some way to save my son."

Kadar frowned. "I'm sorry, Arlessa. Connor is an abomination. I've never heard of anyone recovering from that."

"He's not always a demon…you saw that! Sometimes he breaks through. Please, I just want to protect him!"

Teagan shook his head in frustration. "Isn't that what started this? You hired the mage to teach Connor in secret…to protect him?"

"If they discovered Connor had magic, then they'd take him away! I thought if he learned just enough to hide it, then…"

"There is no 'learn just enough to hide it'. It takes years of training to not be a danger to those around you. In a castle this size, without everyone agreeing to hiding him, it would never have worked. He wouldn't be able to control himself for years," Kadar explained.

"Where did Connor go?" Kael asked.

"Upstairs," she said. "He may have gone to his room or he may be with his father. I – I think the demon is keeping Eamon alive."

Teagan rubbed his forehead. "So if we destroy the demon, then…."

"Then my husband may perish, yes," Isolde admitted in defeat.

Something still puzzled Kael. Jowan had said Loghain freed him. But how did he get from Denerim to Redcliff? How did he know about Connor? "How did you find out about the mage?"

"Loghain sent him to us. I trusted Loghain. Why wouldn't I? How could I have suspected the mage he sent would be a murder?"

"Damn it, Isolde!" Teagan growled. "Don't you see what all that sneaking has cost you? You brought doom upon us all, a deadly illness to Eamon and death to your own son!" He felt a gentle touch against his chest and he released a slow breath. He dropped a kiss to her forehead in thanks for calming him.

She felt the panic rising inside her. Not her baby. Not Connor. "No, please! There must be another way! There must be something we can do!"

Teagan's grip on her waist tightened with his pain. "Connor is my nephew, but…he is also possessed by a demon. Death would be…merciful."

"No!" she cried out. "What about this mage? He could know something of this demon! If he still lives, we could speak to him!"

"Jowan, we could use some insight here," Lorianna exclaimed in a loud voice.

"About time," Jowan mumbled as he entered the great hall with Angelia.

Isolde was stunned to see the mage walk into the greatroom. "But…you – you released him?"

"I did," Lorianna spoke up. "He is one of mine now and I will bear the consequences of his future actions, should there be any."

"There won't be," Jowan stated.

"You are lucky to be alive after everything you have done!" Isolde reminded him harshly.

Lorianna needed her to see the whole picture. "There is more to this than you know, Isolde. Loghain sent him here to poison Eamon. He told Jowan Eamon was a threat to Ferelden and Jowan would be saving Ferelden if he helped him. Loghain wants the throne and will stop any he sees as a threat – by any means necessary. He sent Rendon Howe to massacre the Couslands. He left the field of battle, dooming Cailan to death. He declared the Grey Wardens traitors and king killers – and they are the only ones who can end the blight. He killed the archivist that was to name my husband the next heir to the throne. He was behind the massacre at the alienage, though we don't know why yet. And he had Eamon poisoned. As of yet, I do not know what, if anything, he's done to my family. He have committed more crimes we are unaware of thus far, but he and Rendon will pay for these crimes."

Isolde rubbed her forehead to ease the ache. "I – I can't believe it. Loghain was a hero. This is madness! He – he has lost his mind. I-" She looked at Jowan. "I can never forgive you for what you've done, but I know who is to blame."

Jowan was stunned she would even give him that much. "I will do anything I can to make this right!" He turned to face Kael. "The demon in Connor needs to be destroyed. Killing Connor is…the easiest way to do that, certainly. But it is not the only way. A mage could confront the demon in the fade, without hurting Connor himself."

"What do you mean?" Teagan asked, for the first time feeling hope. "Is the demon not within Connor?"

"Not physically. I believe the demon approached Connor in the Fade while he dreamt and controls him from there. We can use the connection between them to find the demon."

Dare she hope her boy could be saved? "You can enter the Fade, then? And kill the demon wi -without hurting my boy?"

"If I were still a blood mage, I could enable another mage to do so. But I have made a promise to the queen and I intend to keep it," Jowan explained.

No! No! She was so close to having her son back. "Wait! A promise is not worth by son's life! Please, Lor! Let us hear him out."

Lorianna frowned at her. "Tell us what you will, Jowan. But I will tell you now; I do not think my mind will be changed."

Jowan nodded. He understood. "I do not wish to do this, but I will at least explain it. Normally, this type of ritual would require several mages and a lot of lyrium. But blood magic is powerful. A blood-mage could take the life energy from someone to fuel the ritual, but that person would not survive."

Teagan frowned. That was not what he wanted to hear. "So someone must be sacrificed to send a mage into the Fade to kill the demon?"

"Yes, as I told you. I don't want to do it – it's not much of an option."

Isolde shook her head. "Then let it be my blood, I'll be the sacrifice."

"What?" Teagan asked stunned. "Isolde, are you mad? Eamon would never allow this!"

She frowned at Teagan. "Either someone kills my son to destroy that thing inside him or I give my life so my son can live. To me, the answer is clear."

There was no way she was going to allow any sacrifice. "No," Lorianna stated in a steely voice. "I will not let this happen. Kael and I will go to the Circle and get the mages and lyrium we need. Kadar, Leliana, Angelia and Jowan will remain here to protect the castle and the village. Connor ran because I frightened the demon. It knows I can force it out – but I cannot keep it out. It will keep Connor safely away for now, this should give us time to get to the Circle and back. Angelia, do you mind if we take your horse as well? We will get back quicker if the mages are mounted."

She nodded. "Of course. He has large black and white patches. His name is Abelas."

Teagan shook his head. "No – there is a faster way. The Tower is about a day's journey across the lake. There are boats down at the dock."

"Of course! I used to love sailing out onto the lake. I don't know why I did not think of that. We will be back soon!" Lorianna pulled up short. "Wait!" She turned back around. "Teagan – our brother, Alistair, said he had a locket - his mother's locket. He said he threw it against the wall in a fit of anger when Eamon sent him away. Do you know what happened to it? I wanted to have it repaired for him."

Teagan chuckled. "I do." He hurried into Eamon's study and pulled the locket out of a drawer and then returned to the great hall. "I found the broken locket on my brother's desk. I knew how much it meant to Alistair. I had it repaired. I asked Eamon to return it to him, if he ever came back." He handed the locket to Lorianna.

She smiled at Teagan and gave him a brief hug. "Thank you, Uncle Teagan," she said with a wink. She leaned into Angelia's side. "Don't let that one get away," she whispered into her ear. She slipped the locket into her pocket, took her husband's hand and rushed towards the side exit that led down to the docks. She turned when she hear running behind them. Two knights were approaching. "Is something wrong?" she asked.

Balik shook his head. "No, my queen. We came to help you. The boat is too large for two to sail easily on their own and the oars may be needed. With our help, you could get there sooner."

She nodded and continued towards the docks. With the knights' help they were able to get the sails unfurled and the journey started faster than she'd expected. "I used to sneak out here with Ward – Alistair, when we were children. We'd fish from one of the smaller row-boats. I even taught him how to swim. Right now, I wonder if I will ever see days like that again."

"I hope we will," he said quietly.

Her belly growled come supper time. "I wish we'd have had dinner before we left," she grumped.

-BREAK FOUR-

Just after the dawn's light broke the sky they reached Kinloch Hold's dock. But no one was there to greet them. "Do you see the smoke? It smells disgusting and good at the same time, damn my hungry belly!" She blinked. "I feel a sense of relief here – something…something happened here. That probably explains why there are no templars here to greet us. Please, come with us," she told the knights. If there was a chance to eat, they deserved it too.

She was surprised to find the front hall in shambles. She saw Greagoir look at Irving when he saw her, but he remained at his post. "Irving!" she said with a hesitant smile. "What has happened? We saw the smoke when we approached your dock.

Irving smiled at the young Teyrna. Despite what had happened, he was happy to see her. "Come," he said and led her into an alcove to give them the illusion of privacy. "One of the mages that went to Ostagar, Uldred, returned and betrayed the Circle. He tried to convince us to support Teyrn Loghain. But Wynne told us the truth. When he tried to leave, I stopped him. He and his blood mages fought us. During the battle he summoned a pride demon, but he could not control it and became an abomination. He managed to escape. He called demons and created more abominations in his attempt to take over the Circle. He was…largely successful. Elvie showed up with a couple of companions and with the aid of Wynne, they were able to stop Uldred and free the remaining mages that had been captured. It was…good to see her again." His smile widened. "She has forgiven me and all is well between us again. My heart can rest easy now. She told me you spoke with her. She also told me she is working with you and that you are now, married to the heir to the throne. It would seem your Varric was correct. I often wonder if stories mirror reality or if reality mirrors stories." He shrugged. "We have agreed to uphold the Grey Warden treaty, if that is why you stopped by." He chuckled. "Here I am, a rambling old man and you've barely been able to say a word."

She chuckled, but the smile slipped on her face. "It is unfortunate that I had not arrived sooner for my first visit. If I'd have been able to interview those mages – none of this would have happened."

"Lor!" Kael warned. It frustrated him when she tried to take all the blame, especially when the blame was not hers to take.

"Irving," this is my husband, Kael Theirin – heir to the throne."

Irving inclined his head. "It is good to meet the man behind this amazing woman. I cannot think of a better queen to rule at your side. The Circle – such that it is right now will, of course, support you. And your husband is right. The blame for what happened here lies with Loghain and Uldred. But we have control of the Tower once again and we will recover. While it would be nice to have you just for a visit, I think there is something else that brought you here?"

She smiled. "You would be correct. I have a favor to ask of you. I know now is probably not the best time-"

"I owe you more than I can ever repay, your Highness and I have no qualms helping you, if I can. What do you need?"

"Eamon's son, Connor, is possessed by a demon. We need the mages' help to save the child. I want to destroy the demon in the fade. Will you help us with this, Irving?" she asked.

"Yes, it will be an honor to do this for you. I will summon what mages I can and we will leave promptly," he told her.

"We have a boat at the dock. While you gather your mages, my husband and the knights will probably buy out all the dried food your quartermaster has, we forgot to eat before we left," she said with laugh.

Irving frowned. "I would offer you more if I could, but I'm not sure the kitchens are even operating yet. I will be back shortly."

True to his word, it did not take him long to gather the mages and lyrium needed. They'd been able to curb their appetite a bit before the mages returned, at least hopefully enough that the bonfire of dead smelled completely disgusting this time.

They hurried back down to the dock and set sail.

"Irving, there is something you need to know – something you will find out at the castle. It will not please you, but I know what I'm doing," she told him.

"Go on," he said, motioning with a hand "…out with it, your Highness."

She explained about what happened with Loghain and Jowan and what happened after Jowan helped the man he thought was king. "Redcliffe has been through about the same thing as the Circle."

"Well, at least I will feel at home," he said drolly. "What happened to Jowan?"

"That is the part you won't like. He has joined my League of Paladins and is under my supervision."

Irving frowned. "You allowed a blood mage to join you?"

"No," she said with a firm shake of her head. "I allowed Jowan to join me. He is no longer a blood mage. He honestly wants to do good, to help others…to atone, and I intend to be the pillar he needs until he can stand on his own. He even refused to use blood-magic to fuel the ritual to save Connor, even when Isolde begged him to do it. Jowan has a lot of growing to do, but if given the help he needs, he'll succeed."

He stroked his beard as he thought about what she'd said. "I failed Jowan and in my failing he turned to blood magic. If you believe you can save him, then I will not stand in your way. But he will forever be an apostate. The templars have already decided his fate. Nothing will change that, unless he becomes a Grey Warden. But I do not think the Grey Wardens are what's best for him. He does not, as of yet, have the strength to deal with the kind of pressure they would put on him. Being an apostate will not be an easy life either. But, I suppose, having friends in high places will help. I hope you can undo my mistakes, Lorianna," he said quietly. "But, rest assured, I will not make those same mistakes again. I am working with those mages you discovered. They are getting the support I failed to give Jowan. I will not let that happen again."

"We all make mistakes – it's what allows us to grow," she pointed out.

Irving tilted his head. "You've made mistakes?"

She blinked and then smiled. "Of course not – I'm never wrong."

Irving grinned. "Good. You had me worried for a moment."

They arrived back at the castle in the middle of the night. Regardless, everyone not on guard was quietly awakened so that the ritual could be begun while Connor was still in hiding.

"Give us a few moments to prepare," Irving told them.

Hope filled Isolde's heart. She would have willingly given her life for her son without a thought, but now she would get to see him grow up. "Thank you, your Majesties, you were right to get the mages. Connor has been quiet and no dead have arisen since you left."

Jowan held up his hands. "There was no choice. I told you I made a promise that I would do no more blood magic. I do not think I could have done even had the queen asked me to," he admitted.

Irving returned to the group. "We are ready. Who will go into the fade?"

"I will do it," Kadar put forth.

Irving looked over at the horned giant. "A mage and a qunari – you find the most interesting companions, Lorianna."

Kadar was surprised. "Technically, I'm a vashoth. I wasn't born into the Qun. Most here do not know of my people."

Irving laughed. "The Tower has many libraries. Not all the books are about magic, young man."

"Thank you, Kadar. But this is something Jowan needs to do."

Irving turned to look at her in shock. "You would send a…Jowan into the fade to face a demon?"

"Irving – don't all Circle mages have to go through a Harrowing? This is Jowan's Harrowing. I have faith in him. He will not fail." This was not just lip service, she did have faith in him.

Irving held up his hands. "I know – I know… you are never wrong," he said with a sigh. "May the Maker give you strength, Jowan."

Kadar held his staff out to Jowan. "You will need this."

Irving grunted. "He will also need to be able to actually _lift_ it. Take mine," he said as he handed his staff over to Jowan.

He had not expected to be the one to go into the fade. Who would trust a blood mage with a demon? She did. She had faith in him. That was something he'd always needed and never gotten before. She had taken him in, made him one of her Paladins and now she trusted him to be strong enough to fight a demon. He would prove to her that she'd made the right choice in trusting him. He was a Paladin. He could do this. "Thank you," he said as he took the staff. "I will not let you down."

"I know you won't," she said with a gentle smile.

"Stand here, Jowna, in the middle of the circle of magi," Irving said, pointing to a the spot in front of him. "Now," he said after the young man laid down, "close your eyes and you will awaken in the fade. When you have confronted the demon you will either die, return to us or become an abomination that will be destroyed. Maker have mercy on you, Jowan…and good luck." He nodded to the other mages and they began to chant, drawing on their magical energies and combining them to gain the strength need to propel him into the fade.

All they could do was watch after the mages slumped with exhaustion. There was no way to know what was happening to Jowan. His body had vanished and they were left with nothing. Every once in awhile, someone would start pacing, but no one was willing to go very far in case something happened.

Kael looked over at the knights. "Start taking the bodies outside. They will be burned in the morning, but we do not need the dead surround us right now."

Perth nodded. "Yes, my king." He motioned to the other knights and they began their grisly task. In truth, most felt better having something to do rather than standing around helplessly, especially when every minute seemed to last an hour.

Since they couldn't see anything, they were waiting on some kind of sign. Either Connor, himself, coming to find his mother or Lorianna letting them know the evil presence she had felt was gone or Jowan returning to them. The spell had been cast with a purpose woven into it. He could only return if the demon were slain, if he died….or if the demon returned him - and _that_ it could only do if they'd made a deal or if Jowan had become an abomination.

"Can you feel Jowan?" Irving inquired.

"No," she said with the shake of her head. "But I have no connection to the fade, so I feel nothing. I do not even go to this _fade_ when I dream. We do not have this fade where I come from, so I am not in tune with it or I would offer to go to sleep so I could feel him…or find him."

He nodded. It had been a long shot. "I suspected as much," he said with a sigh.

"What if I went to sleep?" Kadar asked.

Irving shook his head. "You would be in a different part of the fade – a different dreamland. Even if you controlled your dream, finding him would be next to impossible and likely the demon in control of Connor would not even let you enter their demesne. We forced Jowan into its demesne; we don't have the energy or enough lyrium left to force you in. And I would not if I could. We are already risking one life."

A couple of hours later Lorianna jumped up from where she was sitting, leaning against her husband, a grin on her face. "He did it! It's gone!"

There was a flash of light and Jowan appeared. "Did it work?" he asked as he handed the staff back to the First Enchanter.

Lorianna nodded. "You did it, Jowan. It's gone." She hugged the mage. "I knew you could! I'm so proud of you."

"My- my son…he's okay now?" Isolde asked with wide eyes, a smile trembling on her lips.

"The demon is gone. We should check on Connor to make sure that he is okay," Irving suggested.

"My baby…" Isolde ran from the great hall and up the stairs to the family quarters. He was not in the main hall so she ran to his room. She could see a mound under the blankets. She darted over to his bed and sat down next to him. She looked down at her beloved son's face. It was dark and his face was covered by shadows, but he seemed peaceful. She reached up to touch his forehead and sweep the bangs out of the way.

Conner opened his tired eyes. "Mother?" he mumbled.

Isolde bit her lip and ignored the tears that rained down her cheeks. Her baby was okay. "It's okay, baby, go back to sleep." She leaned over to brush her lips against his forehead and then rose from the bed. She nodded to everyone and motioned them out of his room. "My baby is back…and I don't even know how to thank you all for what you have done for us. Now, we just have to hope one of the knights finds the Urn of Sacred Ashes to heal my husband."

Teagan smiled. "Isolde – the king, queen, Kadar and Leliana have already been to the Urn. They've brought back a pinch of the Ashes for Eamon."

Hope welled inside her. "You – You've been to the Urn? Oh, thank the Maker. Please…please come with me to our chamber!" She hurried away without a backward glance.

Eamon was in his bed in a dressing gown, covers pulled up to his waist. He was still as if in death, but for the faint rise and fall of his chest. Teagan studied his brother for a brief moment, his heart going out to him for what he'd nearly lost. "Let us see if the healing power of the Ashes lives up to its reputation," he said quietly.

Irving nodded. "Release his dressing gown to his waist and sprinkle the Ashes over him. I will perform the spell needed to hasten the healing."

Kadar stepped forward. "You are exhausted, Irving. All the other mages are. Give me the spell and I will do it."

Irving looked over at the qunari mage and then nodded after a moment of consideration. He told him the words of the spell that was needed and stepped away from the bed so that the qunari could take his place.

Isolde parted her husband's nightclothes and stepped back.

Lorianna took her place and opened her vial of ashes. "I will also add healing energy." She sprinkled the lyrium infused ashes over his chest and then placed a hand over his heart. She nodded at Kadar, who began the chant. She closed her eyes, pulled in the energy that surrounded them and pushed the healing energy out through her hand.

Kadar continued repeating the chant until Eamon stirred and opened his eyes. He lowered his hand and smiled.

Eamon felt a rush and the dark that held him became a fog that dissipated as his eyes opened. The faintest rays of dawn's coming light filtered through the window. Shadows danced across the room with each flicker of the hearth fire's flames. "Wh- where am I?"

Lorianna rose and returned to her husband's side so that Isolde could take her place next to the man she loved.

Relief filled Teagan. His brother was back. "Be calm, brother. You have been deathly ill for a very long time. Do you remember nothing?"

That voice he knew well. He focused on the face that spoke. "Teagan? What are you doing here? Where is Isolde?"

She smiled at her husband. "I am here, my husband," she said softly as she knelt next to him and leaned in towards him.

He looked into her beloved face. She was well. "And Connor? Where is my boy? Where is our son?"

Her brows drew together in pain. "He lives but he is asleep now. Many others have died. There is so much to tell you, husband.

No. This couldn't be happening. "Dead? Then…it was not a bad dream?"

Teagan gave a slight shake of his head. "Much has happened since you fell ill, brother. Some of it will not be…easy for you to hear."

Eamon nodded. "Give me a moment to get dressed. I will join you in the great hall in a few moments."

Teagan inclined his head and led the others from his brother's chambers. They adjourned to the great hall to await him. He took Angelia's hand and looked at the five saviors of Redcliffe. "Each of you have played a part in saving Redcliffe and keeping my family safe. There are no words to describe what I am feeling right now. No amount of thanks can truly cover what you have done for us. Know that I will always be here – for any of you and that all of your Paladins are will be honored if they come to Rainesfere. Call on me if you have need."

"That is quite the speech, little brother," Eamon said as he strolled into the great hall with his wife at his side. "Now, tell me everything."

So they did; they left nothing out of the telling, to include all of Rendon's and Loghain's traitorous machinations to take throne. They also told him who Kael really was and how he was heir to the throne as well as the parts everyone played to set things to right.

There was no way Eamon could have prepared himself for everything he'd been told. The depths of the betrayals were staggering. "This is most troubling." He turned from the dancing flames of the hearth fire to face those around him. "There is much to be don, that is true. But I should first be thankful to those who have done so much to save my life and keep my family and the village safe." He gaze settled on Lorianna, a constant visitor to the castle over the years and who was now like a niece to him. "You are family now, but I find I am in your debt. Will you permit me to offer you a reward for all that you and your…Paladins have done?"

She smiled at Eamon and shook her head. "You know me better than that, Eamon. Nothing we did here was done for a reward, nor would I accept one. We do what we must for each other, that is all."

"Be that as it may, I would like to honor your efforts, nothing more. As such, I declare you and all your Paladins champions of Redcliffe. You will always be welcomed guests within these halls." He chuckled. "That was more for your Palandins than you, Lor. You have always been welcomed here."

"We should speak of Loghain, brother. There is no telling what he will do once he learns of your recovery," Teagan announced.

Eamon closed his eyes briefly. It was hard to stomach what he'd learned and the man he thought he knew. "Loghain instigates a civil war even though the darkspawn are on our very doorstep. Long I have known him. He is a sensible man; one who never desired power."

"That might have been so, brother. But I was there when he announced he was taking control of the throne. He is mad with ambition, I tell you."

Eamon nodded. "Mad, indeed. Mad enough to kill Cailan, to attempt to kill me and destroy my lands. Killing the Couslands, the archivist that would have announced Kael as heir to the throne...and so many more reprehensible actions. Whatever happened to him, Loghain must be stopped. What's more, we can scarce afford to fight this war to its bitter end. We have no time to wage a campaign against him. Someone must surrender if Ferelden is to have a chance at fighting the darkspawn."

Kael shook his head. "There is much I would do for Ferelden, but I will not surrender my throne to Loghain. A Landsmeet needs to be called and Loghain must be forced to capitulate. I will not back down on this. If this continues, there will be nothing left of Ferelden for the darkspawn to take."

"I agree," Eamon said with a nod. "I will spread word of Loghain's actions, though I have no proof to back my claims. However, those claims will give Loghain's allies pause. But we must combine it with a challenge he cannot ignore. Kael Theirin. With that missive, written by Maric's own hand, his right to the throne supersedes any right Anora thinks she has."

Lorianna stepped forward. "Anora will back us when the time comes. I sensed no deceit in her when she agreed. She is an ally. Had anyone else vied for the throne, she would have fought them, but she will step down for us."

"Good," Eamon said with a nod of his head. "Then it is settled. I will call for a Landsmeet. There, Ferelden can decide who shall rule, one way or the other. Then the business of fighting the real threat can begin. I do not wish to proceed without your blessing, my king."

"It is Kael to you, Eamon. We are not quite ready yet. We will be returning to our camp. We are to meet up with the rest of my wife's Paladins when they have completed their tasks. We are using the Grey Warden treaties to raise an army, we already have the mages support. Some of our people are seeking aid with the dwarves and dalish, we should be hearing back from them soon and will have the army we need. Once that is accomplished, we will return here and you may call for a Landsmeet."

Eamon inclined his head. "That is agreeable. Now, I believe there is the matter of the mage…my son's tutor. Where is he?"

Jowan stepped forward. "I am here, my lord."

His eyes turned to the man that had nearly destroyed him. "Jowan, what you have done is not in question. You tried to assassinate me and set into motion a series of events that nearly destroyed everything I cherish. What have you to say in your defense?"

Jowan retained eye contact. "Nothing, my lord…other than to say I'm sorry. I never meant any of this to happen. I thought – It doesn't matter what I thought."

Eamon frowned. "I know what you thought. You thought you were doing a service to the crown and that I was a threat to it. I also know that it was you that went into the fade to kill the demon to save my son and you refused to let my wife sacrifice her life. I know this, yet I cannot forgive you for what you've done."

Lorianna stepped forward. "Eamon. Jowan is now my responsibility. He is one of my Paladins and is under my direct supervision. He did not get the support he needed in the Circle. I will give that to him. He is not a bad man; there is no evil in his heart. He is repentant and wants to atone. It is his judgment that is in question and I intend to help shape that. And there are mages within my Paladins that can help guide his studies. We have all made mistakes and if our intent to atone is sincere, then we should all be given that chance."

"She is right," Irving agreed. "I failed Jowan. I have learned from that failure. It will not happen again."

Eamon nodded. "I cannot forgive him, but I will not deny his right to atone. Until you return I will see to the welfare of my people."

Teagan took Angelia's hand. "Would you be willing to remain here? I would like the chance to spend more time with you."

She smiled softly. "I would like that, Teagan…but I need to see this through. But I will return and we can journey to Denerim together, if you like."

"I would like that very much," he admitted. He drew her close and lifted his hand to cup the back of her neck. "A kiss for luck, my lady." Their lips met in a tender kiss that didn't end until someone cleared their throat. He felt the heat sting his cheeks as he pulled back from her. "Maker keep you safe, my lady," he murmured as she walked away.


	7. A Thedas Tale Ch7 - Kinloch Hold

Dragon Age

A Thedas Tale

Ch 6 – Kinloch Hold

Elvie stretched her back and then patted Breker's neck. "At least we will be at Lake Calenhad's docks before the sun sets." She eyed Alistair curiously. "So you really have no desire to be king?"

He blinked and made a slight gagging noise. "Not at all. I know nothing about being king and I don't want to know anything about it. Can you honestly imagine _me_ being king?" he chided. "I don't even know how to eat with that fancy cutlery - I was raised by a pack of wild dogs, you know" he released a breath. "Besides, I'm a Grey Warden. Grey Wardens are not political." He shook his head. "No –I'll leave the kinging to my big brother – at least this way I don't have to give up the woman I love for a crown. Somehow, I don't think an apostate mage would be allowed to sit beside me on the throne."

"No, probably not. Guess I won't be sitting on the throne any time soon either," she said with a grin.

"Did you want to sit on the throne?" he asked curiously.

Her smile was wry. "No – what I want is even more impossible. I want to spend the rest of my life with a templar." She laughed. "I mean really, is that too much to ask?"

"I don't think _they_ would have liked my choice in women either," he said, drawing out the last word.

Sten frowned. "You spend too much time thinking about things that have no meaning. Visit a tamassran if you need relief then resume your duties."

"Eww. I did not just hear that," Alistair complained. "Look!" He pointed to an old peasant bent over very large remains.

They dismounted an approached the peasant to see if he'd seen Sten' sword.

The peasant spun around when he heard the horses. "Back off! I was here first!"

"I have no desire to rifle through the pockets of the dead. We only stopped because those giant corpses you are picking clean were part of my companion's party," she said as she motioned to Sten. "And we are looking for his sword. His very _large_ sword," she told him.

The peasant looked up at the giant man and took a step back. "I never found no swords. The spot was pretty clean when I got here. I got part of a glove the wolves didn't chew too badly…at least I think it was a glove, anyway. I know, don't say it. I got cheated. I knew the guy who was here before me. He sold me this spot. Said he'd found giants and all kinds of valuables. He didn't mention that he'd taken everything but the bones and dirt already. His name's Faryn. Squirrely little bastard, if you ask me. Which you didn't. But I said it anyway."

"Where is he?" Sten growled, tired of all the words that ran in pointless circles.

The peasant blanched. "He uhh…he was going to Orzammar, he said. I imagine he'd gotten there by now. If you find him, tell him I sent you! It will scare the piss out of him," he said with a laugh.

Elvie looked up at Sten. "The others are looking for it too. We'll find it Sten – or maybe Syn already has."

He was surprised they remembered and that they would go out of their way to try to find it. Perhaps some bas were worthy of respect. "I appreciate that you thought to look for it."

They mounted, rode down the hill and stabled the horses at the barn near the inn. They would be taking a boat to Kinloch Hold. She found Kester standing outside the inn, looking none too happy.

"Well, look at this! I remember taking you across when you left with that fellow, Damon. And now you're a Grey Warden…my pap used to tell me stories about them."

"Hello, Kester," she said with a smile. "Do you have time to ferry us across?"

"I would if I could, miss. But the templars took the boat without a what have you. Greagoir just came down and said, 'Don't you worry, Kester. We got it all under control, we do'. Didn't say nothing else. And then he put Carroll in charge of my boat, Lissie! Named for my grandmum, she was."

"I'm sure Lissie will be back in your hands in no time. I'll see if I can find out what's going on. Take care, Kester," she said with a nod and turned to head to the docks. "Let's see what Carroll has to say."

Carroll squared his shoulders when he saw the group approaching. "You!" he said as he pointed to at them. "You're not looking to get across to the tower, are you? Because I have strict orders not to let anyone pass."

Elvie's lips pulled down into a frown. "Carroll, open your eyes. You know me. I've lived in the Circle most of my life. Irving will want to see me."

His eyes narrowed on her. She did look familiar, but he wasn't sure. "Then why aren't you dressed like a circle mage?"

She arched a brow at him. "If you recall, a Grey Warden conscripted me and I had to leave the Tower."

"Then you aren't a circle mage anymore, are you?" he asked feeling pretty proud that he'd put it all together.

She pursed her lips to keep from smiling. "You are absolutely right, Carroll. I'm a Grey Warden recruit now and I have official business with Irving."

Oh, he was on to her. "If you're a Grey Warden – prove it."

She blinked. "Prove it?"

"Yeah – Kill some darkspawn. Come on. Let's see some righteous Grey Wardening," he said with a self-satisfied nod.

She bit her lip. "Carroll, that's ridiculous."

She wasn't pulling the wool over his eyes! "Ah – ha! I knew it! I bet you can't even sense them! A real Grey Warden is supposed to be able to sense darkspawn."

She released a slow breath and tried not to giggle when Alistair did. "Carroll…dear…There are no darkspawn here for a Grey Warden to sense."

He nodded. "Oh, yeah…that's good, I suppose. Wouldn't want darkspawn smeared across the landscape. I hear their blood is black. Is that true? You'd know if you were a Grey Warden."

She shook her head. "It's not black, but it burns you when it touches you."

"Oh. I guess you'd know that if you were a Grey Warden. But I'm still not taking you across. I have my orders," he said with a nod.

"Carroll-"

He frowned at her. "Don't you Carroll me. I've been standing here all day and I'm feeling peckish."

"Then why don't we go to the Tower and get some supper? Then you can come back with a full belly."

"Parshaara! Here!" Sten said as he stepped forward to hand him some food wrapped in a cloth. "Munch on these if you like."

He opened the cloth. "Oooh, cookies!"

"I am content to part with them if it saves us from this fool," Sten grumbled.

She laughed. "Where did you get those, Sten?"

"There was a child – a fat, slovenly thing – in the last village we passed. I relieved him of these confections. He didn't need more," Sten admitted.

She bit her inner cheek trying not to laugh at the thought of Sten sneaking cookies away from a child.

"Mmmm….yummy!"

Her hand lifted to cover her mouth. This was the most ludicrous conversation she'd ever had and it was hard holding the laughter back. "Carroll - Irving will be very displeased that you are denying me a visit. And if he is displeased he will take it out on Greagoir and who do you suppose Greagoir will take it out on, hmmm?" she pointed out.

He took a bite from the last cookie and lowered it, crumbs peppering the sides of his mouth. "Me? Oh, yes...me. Well why didn't you just say so?"

She had…twice. "So you will take us across now?"

He smiled. "Sure, I will. I'm always eager to help out an ex-circle mage Grey Warden that has a cookie bearing giant with her. We'll just take this Lispie boat across."

"Thank you, Carroll, that's a far sight better than swimming. And the boat's name is Lissie," she told.

He shook his head. "No it's not. I distinctly remember he told me the boat was named Lispie. That's just silly of you to say otherwise, since you don't know," he pointed out.

She smiled. "The name of the boat is painted on her side." She pointed to the word _Lissie_.

Carrol blinked as he looked down at the boat's side. "Well, so it is. You would think he'd know the name of his own boat. Some people just aren't very intelligent, but what can you do?" he asked.

She nodded as she followed him onto the boat. "You are absolutely right, sometimes you just have to grin and bear it."

"I know what you mean," Carroll replied with a nod.

When they reached the other side they hopped out of the boat and hurried up the stairs. It was odd that there were no templars posted at the door. Once they were inside, it was evident something very wrong had happened here.

"…and I want two men stationed within sight of the doors at all times. Do not open the doors without my express consent. Is that clear?" Greagoir demanded.

"Yes, ser," the templar replied and returned to his station.

Alistair looked from the templars to Elvie. "The doors are barred, are they keeping people out or in? I almost dread to find out."

"Now we wait and pray," Greagoir replied as he turned to face the group that entered the Tower.

Elvie forced her lips into a smile. "Greagoir! It's been awhile. Good to see you again."

What was _she_ doing back at the Tower? "Well, look who's back. A proper Grey Warden now, are we? I got word that your phylactery went missing from Denerim – you wouldn't have had anything to do with that, would you?" He asked as he studied her expression.

Her brows drew together in confusion. "I've not had time to visit Denerim yet. I cannot be in two places at one time, Greagoir. I'm here for the Grey Warden treaty."

"Maybe you sprouted wings and flew," he said dryly.

Alistair stepped up beside Elvie. "That's a little harsh, knight-commander. She hasn't been to Denerim. I've been with her since Ostagar. She's a nice person. She wouldn't have destroyed her phylactery."

Greagoir shook his head. "And why would I believe you?"

Alistair exhales slowly. "I used to be a templar before I was conscripted into the Wardens."

"Ah – so they assigned you to watch over her?" At least the Grey Wardens did something right.

"No," Alistair said with a shake of his head. "The Grey Wardens do not see things the same way as templars do. She is my friend."

"Your… _friend_." Maybe now Cullen would stop moping about…provided he was even alive.

Alistair frowned. "Not _that_ kind of friend. She's a friend-friend."

"At least you remember some of your training," Greagoir stated dryly.

She rolled her eyes. She needed to take back control of the conversation. "Why are the doors barred? What's happened here?"

Greagoir looked over at the doors. "I shall speak plainly. We are in no position to honor that treaty. The Tower is no longer under our control." He turned back to face the group. Abominations and demons stalk the Tower's halls. We were to complacent. First Jowan, now this. Don't think I've forgotten what you did."

"You have made that abundantly clear. I only recently found out about Jowan. I did not think he'd go through with it by himself."

"Well he did, and we have no way of finding him since his phylactery was destroyed. It's set a dangerous precedent. I should have been more vigilant…and urged Irving to be more wary. I can only hope that one day Jowan gets what he deserves. But right now, I have more pressing concerns."

She nodded. "What has become of Irving? Does he live?"

"I don't know. We saw only demons, hunting templars and mages alike. I realized we could not defeat them and told my men to flee," he told her.

"Things must be really dire, if the templars had to flee – and I've no doubt you'll want to want us to get involved," Alistair said cautiously.

"You know me so well. What can we do to help Greagori?"

He shook his head. "I've sent word to Denerim, calling for reinforcements and the Right of Annulment," he admitted.

Alistair rubbed his forehead. "The mages are probably already dead. Any abominations remaining in there must be dealt with no matter what."

Greagoir inclined his head to Alistair. "This situation is dire. There is no alternative – everything in the Tower must be destroyed so that it can be made safe again."

"No. That's not acceptable to me. There may be mages still alive in there. Irving may still be alive. Cullen… I cannot turn my back on them and do nothing."

He did not believe any could be left alive. "If any are still alive, the Maker Himself has shielded them. No one could have survived those monstrous creatures. It's too painful to hope for survivors and find…nothing," he admitted.

She could see the pain on his face. He was a taciturn man and sometimes a hard one, but he cared. She'd always known he cared. That had been one of the reasons he'd been so upset with her for fleeing. She understood that, even if he couldn't understand her. "I'm going in, Greagoir. I told you – I can't walk away from this. I can't leave people in there to die."

Greagoir frowned. "I assure you, an abomination is a force to be reckoned with and you will be facing more than one," he warned. He may not have approved of her attempted escape, but he did not want to lose another soul to those monsters.

"I have to try, Greagoir."

He released a harsh breath. "If you succeed, I would owe you much – enough that I would pledge my templar's to your cause. Without word from Denerim, I must determine our course. Surely, destroying darkspawn is a worthy goal."

"That it is. We have a deal then, Greagoir."

He held up his hand. "A word of caution…once you cross that threshold, there is no turning back. The great doors must remain barred. I will open them for no one until I have proof that it is safe. I will only believe it's over if the first enchanter stands before me and tells me it is so. If Irving has fallen…then the Circle is lost and must be destroyed. May Andraste lend you her courage, whatever you decide."

Sten looked around as they headed towards the great doors. "This is the prison for your mages? Ours is not so grand."

"Some view it as a prison, some a sanctuary. I spent my childhood on the run with my father to avoid the Circle. When I was caught, at least for awhile, it was a relief not to run. For me, it was more a gilded cage than a prison."

Sten grunted. "You would have been killed had you tried to flee our prison."

She closed her eyes briefly as the door slammed closed with finality. "I nearly was Damon, the Grey Warden, that saved my life. If not for him I would be dead…or worse," she admitted.

"Worse?" he inquired.

Some things were worse than death. "They might have chosen to make me tranquil. I would have no longer been me. I would have become a mindless drone, good for taking orders but not much more."

He nodded. "Killing you would have been a waste. Under the Qun no life is wasted. When re-educators fail then they use a poison, gamek, that does much the same."

She wasn't sure how to respond to that. It was a horrendous practice. "Nice," she muttered with scarcasm. "Qunari sound practical and efficient _and_ coldly unfeeling."

"Unfeeling to you, perhaps, but you care correct, the Qun is both practical and efficient. Everyone has their place in the Qun. Knowing that place gives a sense of purpose that bas lack. That is why many bas choose to convert to the Qun. The Qun could give you proper direction." He informed her.

Alistair winced. She was a mage. He did not want to contemplate the _direction_ the Qun would give her and this conversation was quickly going downhill. "You know, you never did tell me how you passed the time in that cage for so long," he said, hoping to change the direction of the conversation.

"No, I didn't."

"Sooo, what did you do in there?" he prodded.

"A training exercise," Sten replied and then sighed. The man would doubtless not stop talking. "I would observe an object and then try to think of all the words in your language which begin with the same letter as its name."

The apprentice rooms they had checked out thus far showed no signs of the living, only the dead greeted them and they were not very talkative. These were people she knew. Some she liked, some she didn't. One, Darok, she'd even kissed once behind a statue. It had done nothing for her, but it had been her first kiss and he had been her friend. It broke her heart to see what had become of a place she'd once called home. A place that still held a lot of memories. A place that was barely recognizable.

Did he really just say that? No, surely he heard wrong. "Wait. Just wait. You're joking, aren't you?"

"No," Sten stated briskly.

Alistair just looked at him. "You are not telling me that you played 'I spy' against yourself for twenty days." That was hard to believe.

Sten frowned. "There are a lot of things in Lothering that begin with 'G'."

She shot Alistair a glance and could see he was barely holding onto his laughter.

She opened the door to continue down the main circular hall and reached back to pull her dual sword staff free of its restraint when a demon pulled itself up out of the stone floor. She shot a bolt of ice at it just as Wynne hit it with a spell of her own. The demon sank back into the ground.

Wynne turned to see who had cast the other spell and saw a face she did not expect. "Elvie? You've returned to the Tower? Why did the templars let you through?" She shook her head. "When I was told a Grey Warden conscripted you, I thought you must have died at Ostagar."

"The Grey Wardens are working with the rightful king and queen of Ferelden. We came here because of the treaty that was signed with the Grey Wardens. They let us in because I told them I wouldn't leave without doing something to help find survivors. Sadly, you are the first I've found. So many deaths…" She absently rubbed over her heart. "As for Ostagar - I never made it down to the main battlefield; by the time I arrived the fighting had already begun. I was fighting darkspawn at the Ishal Tower. That was there I met the rightful queen, Lorianna Theirin."

This was a surprising turn of events. It did not help their current situation, but it was interesting to know. "Irving told me about her – about what she did for the Tower, but he didn't mention she was the rightful queen. I am to assume she is Maric's daughter?" Wynne inquired.

"She was Lorianna Wulff-Cousland then, it was only later that her husband found out that he was Maric's proclaimed son and the heir to the throne. Lor has banded together a League of Paladins and we have all set out to build an army to fight the blight. I chose to be the one come here to seek the aid of the mages. I'm sure you remember Alistair, from Ostegar. The qunari is Sten. His beliefs are different, but his heart is in the battle to come and I am glad to have him as a fellow Paladin."

Wynne looked at the other two. "Alistair, it is good to see you survived Ostagar. Sten, I'm glad you have lent your significant…muscle to help end the blight. And I am relieved you have chosen to help us, regardless of your reasons for doing so, Elvie. Did the templars tell you anything?"

She settled the sword tip of her staff on the stone floor. "Only that they are awaiting reinforcements and seeking the Right of Annulment."

"I thought as much. I imagine Greagoir believes we have all died. If they invoke the Right, however, we will not be able to stand against them."

"So you know if Irving has survived?" he had to survive and not just because they needed him if the doors were ever to open, but because she needed to set things right with him. What he'd told Lor to tell her had healed the wound in her heart. She could not let that go unsaid.

"If anyone could survive this, it would be Irving. It was he who told me to look after the children. It's…a long story. I erected a barrier," she said as she pointed over to the glowing membrane, "over the door leading to the rest of the tower, so nothing from the inside could attack the children. Since you are here to help, I can dispel it. Once Greagoir sees that we have made the Tower safe, I trust he tell his men to back down. He is not unreasonable…at least in most cases," Wynne amended, recalling what she'd been told had happened to Elvie.

The corners of her lips tipped down. "It is not that simple. Greagoir will not let us out until Irving, himself, tells him the Tower is safe."

"Then our path is laid before us. We must save Irving." Her look softened. "I know how much you meant to each other. He loved you as a daughter. Irving is strong – we will find him."

Elvie nodded. "I know we will," she said quietly. "But how did this happen?"

"When Uldred returned from Ostagar, he had made a deal with Loghain to gain the Circle's support. He nearly succeeded swaying the Circle elders. Until I told them what Loghain had done and the price we all paid for his treachery. Uldred tried to get away. When we tried to stop him, he called forth a pride demon. He couldn't control it and he became an abomination. He and his blood mage supporters managed to escape during the chaos. He forced mages to become abominations and they took over the Tower." Wynne released a harsh breath. "That is the short story, but it is all we have time for."

"Agreed," Elvie said with a nod. "Let us gut this Tower and find survivors."

Wynne turned to look at those she'd managed to save. "Petra, Kinnon…look after the children. We will be back soon."

Petra frowned. "Wynne…are you sure you're all right? You were so badly hurt earlier. Maybe I should come along."

A small smile played on her lips. "It is kind of you to offer, Petra, but I have three worthy souls to see to my protection. The others need your protection more than I do. I will be all right. Stay here with them…keep them safe and calm. Now, let us go end this."

"Elvie," Petra said as she touched her arm. "Look after Wynne. I don't know if she's up to this. Especially not after…I just worry."

Her brows drew together in confusion. "After what?"

"I was on my way down to the library when I heard screaming and a demon came around the corner. Its eyes were afire with evil…I was certain I would meet my death. I think I screamed; I was so afraid. And then Wynne was there, in front of me, shielding me. It was light and fire, blood and chaos. When it was over, the demon was dead but Wynne wasn't moving either. I was so afraid she was…gone. I could swear I did not see the rise of her chest. As I moved to check on her, she stirred and started coughing. I don't know what I would have done if she had died…for me. Just look after her – no one could have survived that unharmed."

Wynne looked back at the rest of their small group. "Are you ready?"

"Don't worry, Petra I'll look after her. Coming, Wynne." She hurried over to the barrier.

"I am somewhat amazed at myself for having kept it in place this long," she admitted.

"We all do what is needed in times of desperation. You did good, Wynne," Alistair told her.

She nodded. "Be prepared for anything. I do not know what manner of beasts lurk beyond this barrier," Wynne warned. She lifted her hand and chanted the spell that would release the barrier.

-BREAK ONE-

They rounded the hall and could see the abominations before they even entered the library. Alistair and Sten rushed ahead of the mages to take the brunt of the attack, giving the mages time to work their spells without being swarmed.

Elvie cast a sustained healing spell and then focused on pummeling the abominations with spells that would rip away their life force.

Wynne frowned. "You are no longer a lone mage in battle. Let me worry about healing, Elvie. Do not waste your energy on that. You are far more versed in destructive magic then I am. Use it," Wynne pointed out.

Good point. She released the sustained spell and slammed an abomination with a stone fist, causing it to stumble backwards, giving Sten the break he needed to impale the abomination on his great sword. No other creatures were found in the main library.

The rows upon rows of books were staggering. He had never seen so many in one place. "Such a number of books. How many are not decorations?"

Wynne laughed. "They are all real, Sten and they each have an important story to tell those that are willing to open its cover."

"Surely, you jest."

She smiled at the qunari. "Pull any book from any shelf and you will see that I speak the truth."

After about fifteen books were pulled from various locations throughout the library, Sten stopped to shake his head. "Many ashkaari – seekers of knowledge, must have passed through here."

They took the far door on the left that lead to the archives where they found a group of demons and abominations. It saddened her that she could not even recognize those she had once known in the abominations, it was as if nothing of the host remained behind. Perhaps, it was better not to equate a face, a life, with the creatures they were forced to kill.

They took the stairs up to the second floor. They found Owain in the stock room. Surprisingly, the tranquil seemed unharmed.

People have come. "Please refrain from going into the stockroom. It is a mess and I have not been able to get it into a state fit to be seen."

"What are you doing here?" Alistair inquired. He should at least try to hide.

"I was trying to tidy up, but there was little I could do," Owain stated.

Tranquil's broke her heart. She wasn't sure of the story behind why he was made tranquil, but he was a shell of a man and that wasn't right. "Owain, you should have left – gone somewhere more safe."

"I tried to leave, when things got quiet. That was when I encountered the barrier. Finding no other way out, I returned to work," he replied simply.

Wynne's heart squeezed in pain. Owain was helpless…defenseless. If only she had known. "Owain, you should have said something! I would have opened the door for you."

"The stockroom was familiar. I prefer to be here," he explained. Here he was at home. Here he had something to do. Here the rhythm of his life could play out as it was meant to. Peace and comfort in the arms of familiarity.

At least he had survived. She wasn't sure how he'd survived, but he had. "I'm glad you are all right, Owain."

"Me too. I would prefer not to die. I would prefer it if the Tower returned to the way it was. Perhaps, Niall will succeed and save us all," he told them.

Now that peeked her interest. "What is Niall going to do?

"I don't know, but he came here with several others and took the Litany of Andralla," Owain answered evenly.

Wynne blinked. "But that protects from mind domination. Perhaps blood magic is at work here." She looked at Elvie. "Niall was at the meeting. He would know. Blood magic…I was afraid of this. We should find Niall. The Litany will give us protection against any blood mages we encounter."

"I wish you luck," Owain told them. "Perhaps this will be over soon and things will return to the way they were. There is comfort in that. Good bye."

There was little they could do for him if he wouldn't leave. "The barrier is down and the way is clear. You may wish to head down to Petra and the others. Try to stay safe, Owain." She nodded to Wyn. "Let's find Niall…or Irving." Or Cullen.

They entered the door on their left to find three blood mages talking quietly amongst each other. But they attacked without provocation and set the wheels of their demise into action. The last of the blood mages fell, but struggled to pulle herself up onto her elbow. She held her hand out towards them. "Please, please don't kill me."

"Well, I doubt the people you killed wanted to die either," Alistair pointed out in words that dripped with sarcasm.

He was right about that. They'd died because they fought back and change – real change, never comes easy. "I know I have no right to ask for mercy, but I didn't mean for this death and destruction. We were just trying to free ourselves. Uldred told us that the Circle would support Loghain and Loghain would help us be free of the chantry. Don't you remember what it was like living her? The templars watching…always watching."

There was one templar she didn't mind watching her. "But what you've done reflects on all mages and that makes their lives more hellish. We are forced to live with _your_ consequences."

"Change doesn't come easy. The magic gave me the power to fight for what I believed. To fight for your freedom as well as my own," she pointed out.

Wynne crossed her arms over her chest. "Fighting for what you believe, Rista, can be commendable – but the ends do not always justify the means.

Rista narrowed her gaze on Wynne. "You don't really believe that do you Wynne? Change rarely comes peacefully. Andraste waged war on the Imperium; she didn't write them a strongly worded letter. She reshaped civilization, freed the slaves and gave us the Chantry. But people died for it. We thought…someone always has to take the first step. Force the change, no matter the cost."

"Nothing," Wynne said with a swipe of her hand, "is worth what you've done to this place!"

"And now…."Rysta said as her hand curled into a fist. "Now Uldred's gone mad, and we are scattered, doomed to die at the hands of those who seek to right our wrongs."

Elvie shook her head. The woman has learned nothing. "There is more to life than wallowing in self-pity. This isn't how to make a difference. Demons and abominations are not the way."

Rista shook her head. "No! That was Uldred, that wasn't us! I didn't turn into an abomination to fight you. That's not what we wanted. We wanted freedom - that is all."

So there were cracks even within Uldred's own people. "I'm not going to kill someone who has surrendered, but you need to consider more carefully what you do from here on out. Leave; get to safety if you can."

Relief washed through her. They weren't going to kill her. "Thank you. The Maker will surely turn His eyes on you for your mercy!"

She frowned as she watched the woman run. She hoped she did not meet her again…But if she did and Rista was still using blood magic, there would be no mercy the second time around. She led them further down the hall, clearing out the chambers that lined it. In the second chamber they found a mage hiding in armoire.

"The creatures are gone – you can come out, you know," Elvie told the armoire.

The man stepped out of the closet. "I thought I was dead for sure. I suppose I can breathe easy now. "Godwin." He pointed to his chest. "Mage of the Circle of Ferelden, at your service."

"Why were you in the closet? I wouldn't think that would be a very safe place to hide. After all, I found you," she pointed out.

"Well, it was safer than dancing around in front of them. I hid there because there were demons everywhere, blocking my exit. I decided the best thing to do in that situation was to hide and be very, very quiet. Thankfully, those monsters weren't as smart as you." He shuddered. "I just really want to be somewhere safe. I think I might stay here for now. Maybe go back into the closet."

Oh dear. She wondered if he was related to Carroll. She smiled and spoke kindly, as if to a child. "Godwin – We've cleared the way. Head back down and join up with Petra and the others. You will be safe there…even better, you won't be alone anymore." She saw him look at the closet with longing. "Or you can stay here…all by yourself…in the dark."

He blinked. No, that didn't sound so good. "I'll find the others. Thank you for saving me. May we meet again, in happier, less life-threatening times."

They followed him out of the chamber. He turned left to head back down and they turned right to check out the next chamber. She came to an abrupt stop and held up her hand to stop and quiet everyone.

"There's nothing here!" a mage cried.

"There must be something left. If we get out, we're going to need gold. Uldred said-"

"Uldred's not here, is he?" asked the woman. "Keep your mouth shut and we'll be right as rain."

She sighed. Blood mages then.

An abomination appeared. "There you are! Little mages…such sweet morsels. I think I will go for the plump one first…"

They attacked the abomination and found themselves fighting the abomination and the mages. Because, clearly, killing mages is more important than killing demons and abominations. The abomination didn't care who it killed and it was hard to feel pity when it killed one of the blood mages that had decided to ignore it. As Kadar likes to say, 'all roads do not have to lead to the same destination'. It was unfortunate the blood mages didn't agree. If she could have even saved one of them from the path they walked, she would have tried.

The following room brought up memories of killing spiders in an infested store room for a senior enchanter. She shuddered. Big, hairy spiders the size of large dogs. If she never saw another it would be too soon.

A rage demon soon joined the abominations inhabiting the room. She immediately chanted a spell to cool the lava blob off, which Alistair took advantage of by shattering it with his shield. She was pleased to note that Wynne was quite the accomplished healer. She'd feel an occasional ache or pain, but it was gone before it had time to take her attention away from the battle. She had to admit it was nice to not have to heal and fight at the same time.

Alistair slammed his sword against his shield. The abomination swung around to face the new threat. Sten swung his great sword, hacking the creature in half. She smiled. Those two may not like each other much, but they were becoming a team. That was far more important than liking someone.

Sten shook his head in bewilderment. "What are all these statues? Your mages have an unhealthy fascination for women with bowls."

"I've always wondered that myself," Elvie admitted as she glanced at one of the statues. Bowls often signified offerings. Did mages long ago used to put offerings in those bowls? Best not to think on it.

She led them back down the hall and into the chapel. Nothing in here but death. At times she found the sermons boring. But bored to death was a far cry from being a burnt husk.

The final door on this floor was the hardest for her to enter. She took a deep, relaxing breath and stepped into Irving's office. At least it did not look as bad as the other rooms they'd been through. She had spent so much time in here over the years. Irving had chosen to be her personal mentor when he first clapped eyes on her, since then he'd become a father to her.

When she first arrived at Kinloch Hold, he'd spent hours with her, reading to her, taking her out onto the island grounds and out onto the lake. She had a photographic memory and learned spells in one teaching. Once she'd built up the strength of those spells he'd move on to harder ones. Before she ever became a teenager, she was already learning spells that practiced mages were learning. By the time she was fifteen she was learning spells that senior enchanters were practicing. Within two years, Irving was allowing her to see books of ancient magicks that even the senior enchanters were not allowed to view, because they were considered too dangerous or blasphemous to the chantry. He'd even taught her the fundimentals of blood magic and how best to counter the various spells.

What she hadn't realized until later was that he was grooming her to eventually become First Enchanter. She couldn't help but wonder if he now regretted devoting so much time to her and her training, as it was unlikely she would ever become First Enchanter now. But that was something only he could answer.

She found a small, black grimoire in a chest in the office. It appeared to have been Flemeth's grimoire at one time. She skimmed through it and then came to a stop to read back over what she'd just read. It spoke of a spell that would enable the caster to take over another host's body. Sorry, Irving. I would never have thought I'd steal anything from you, but Morrigan needs to see this. She slipped it into a side pocket on her upper thigh.

Alistair put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly.

She looked up at him and nodded. "I will be. Irving raised me since I was brought to the tower as a child. We had a special bond. He _was_ my mentor and became my father. I have to wonder if I could have saved him…if only I hadn't run when he broke my heart."

He shook his head. "And you might have ended up dead…or worse. I went through something similar with Duncan – I didn't know him as long as you knew the First Enchanter, but still – he was a father figure to me. And I wondered if I could have saved him if I'd not got to the Tower of Ishal…if I'd been down in the valley with him. But my sister…" he grinned. "I still love the way that sounds…my _siiissterr_ told me Ishouldn't look at it that way. I was sent away because I have a different path to walk. The future needed me to stay alive, because I have a destiny to fulfill. It is the will of life. Or something to that effect. And you are here now, because this is where you need to be."

She placed a hand against his cheek. "Thank you, Alistair. That helps." She turned to look up the stairs. "Up we go again. Like Irving, I curse whoever decided to put the Circle in a tower."

Alistair frowned when they reached the top. "Do you get the feeling things are just getting worse as we go up? Reminds me of the Tower of Ishal. Hope there's no ogre waiting for us at the top."

Half-way through a main congregation hall the dead rose up around them. "These things can have unusual powers! Be wary!" Wynne warned.

Elvie released her dual sword staff. "You know, it broke my heart to see all the dead. But now I wished they'd just stayed dead," she teased dryly. She chanted a spell that would lift the dead thing up and slam it to the ground. She blinked when it rose on obviously broken bones and shambled towards her. "Take off their heads!" she cried. "They don't fall to normal damage!" She twirled her staff and, the deadly sword ends arching out to meet undead necks. She dropped a fireball on one of them, it continued to advance, a walking torch. Until one leg gave out and the other. It toppled forward, landing on a large rug. "Oh, shit!" She cast an ice spell to put out the flames. "Fire works – but I don't recommend it!"

Alistair laughed. "So I noticed."

As soon as they thought they'd cleared the room, more dead rose up to challenge them. But this time they were not alone. Their boss stepped in to join the fight. "I'm going after the pride demon mage…thing."

"That is called an arcane horror. And it packs a nasty punch," Wynne warned. "I will try to keep you healed."

She ran towards the arcane horror, chanting a spell to trap and crush it in a telekinetic force. She threw a glyph of protection on herself to ease Wynne's burden and then released a spell of cold, which only seemed to slow it down. She could feel the blasts of the horror's power. Each blast weakened her protection ward. She rolled to avoid and other sphere of power and then dropped a heavy telekinetic weight on it, followed by a glyph of paralysis. She swung her dual sword staff in a downward arch and removed its head.

She turned to help with the rest of the dead, but the last one was cleaved in two by Sten.

Sten looked at the new statues. There were statues all over this hall. "Headless women with shields. Much better than bowls. But those - ," he pointed over to the wall, "they should not carry swords. Swords are for warriors and warriors are men."

"We do not practice the Qun here. Here, women fight," Elvie explained.

"That will not last for long," he responded.

Alistair frowned. "Does that mean you intend to invade us and force us all into your Qun?"

"All religions are inherently selfish," Wynne explained. "Like a virus, they need to spread and infect, so that nothing is left but the virus. The chantry, too, has done this, but the cost exacted is high and must not be rushed into blindly."

"That is…one way of looking at it," Sten responded. And the more he thought on it the more he could see the wisdom in the words spoken by the elder mage.

In the next room they found more abominations, as soon as those were eliminated a rage demons rose up behind them. She and Wynne hit them with freezing spells and Alistair shattered them with his shield. They slipped back through the stone floor as if they had never been there. Her hand rose to her mouth to hold down her gorge when she saw large rotted, meaty masses covering parts of the room. What in all hell? No – no, she did not want to know. The smell was as stomach churning as the sight of the masses of flesh.

"Now that is just gross," Alistair quipped.

The entered back into the main circular hall. The first of the rooms they came to held templars who attacked them on sight. The glow seen through their visor's slit left little doubt that these templars were not in their right minds…they were not alone in their bodies. With two against four the odds were not in the templar's favor and they were dispatched before they could blink. The following room was empty and that was a nice break.

"Arise, my pets! Your mistress commands it!"

And…short breather over. A desire demon held several templars in thrall, templars that had been kneeling at her feet. She dodged the templars and focused on the desire demon. With luck, if she could be destroyed, the templar would gain their minds. "Focus on the demon! We may be able to save the templars!" She knew it was a long shot, but she had to take it. These men had been enthralled to the demon, they were possessed and they weren't abominations or dead – there was still a chance to save them.

She had been correct in that assumption. When the desire demon fell, the templar were once again in control of themselves. Except one, that had been killed during the fray. "We have cleared the way; you can go below and recover with the other survivors."

Leon shook his head. "No, we should go with you to clear the rest of the Tower."

"You have just had a traumatic experience, Leon. You need to recover. We will have a hard enough time shielding our own minds. If you come with us, you will just be controlled again - we cannot risk that. There are several mages downstairs, near the entrance of the apprentice quarters. They will be able to protect your minds until this is over."

Leon inclined his head. "There is wisdom in your words. Maker watch over you all."

-BREAK TWO-

They could not continue further down this hall, it was stacked high, as if someone was trying to prevent anyone from getting through. She considered blowing the stacked furnishings out of the way, but there was one room left that they had not gotten to. The chamber that led to the middle of this floor. She backtracked and opened the door. Tranquil stood in the center of the room as if frozen. There was an abomination and several lesser creatures. "Wynne – shield the tranquils! I will handle the healing of the others – just keep the tranquils and yourself safe!"

This battle took a little longer because she had to both heal and fight. She had backed out into the hall to get the creatures to follow, in hopes of keeping the shielded tranquil safer. The abomination was the last to go down. It had been stronger than the other abominations they'd come across so far. She hurried back into the room and Wynne lowered the shield that had covered her and the four tranquil.

Wynne rubbed her forehead. "It was turning tranquil into abominations. We were shielded, but I could feel its magic bearing down against the shield." She shook her head. "It felt dirty…and hungry."

Her attention settled on the four tranquil. "All four of you go downstairs, near the entrance of the apprentice quarters, survivors have gathered there. The path has been cleared, you will be safe," she told them.

"Thank you…for saving us. We did not wish to die," Eldon told her. "Come, we should go," He led the others from the chamber – lucky to be leaving behind the stench of the meat-glob décor.

She eyed the door leading up to the next level and released a slow breath. "I would give almost anything right now for a spell to inhibit my sense of smell," she grumbled. "Onward and upward to the Templar quarters."

They hurried past the entry foyer and into the first room. A desire demon held a templar in thrall.

The desire demon drew a hand across the templar's chestplate. "Everything is just as you wanted, my knight. Our love and our family is more than you hoped for."

She raised her staff and sent a bolt of lightning into the demon. She arched back with a cry of pain.

"We are being attacked, my love – protect our children; kill the intruders!"

They tried to focus on jus the demon this time, but the templar was more aggressive than the other five had been. He was in love with the vision she'd given him and he ended up fighting to the death to save it. The demon also raised the dead to aid the fight against them. Their children, perhaps? That was a horrifying thought.

There was no satisfaction with the demon's death this time, because she could not save the templar from its dream. She couldn't help but wonder if Cullen, too, had become victim to a desire demon – if he, too, was separated out because of his love for her. She hoped she did not find him like this…but if she did, she could only hope that her love would be able to pull him out of the vision.

There was one more room on this side of the floor she wanted to hit before tackling the middle that would take them to the other side and to the stairs to the next floor…the Harrowing chamber. It was starting to look like Irving… if he was alive would be there. It would be too much to hope that the room was empty. She opened the door. And so it was…too much to hope, that is. There were three templars and a blood mage. Unlike the templars in thrall to the desire demon, these had an unnatural glow to their eyes. They were possessed, unsalvageable, and the death toll rises. The number of survivors they'd found by now was alarmingly low. Better than none…but barely. There were parts of the Tower they hadn't had access too. She could only hope that more survivors would be found there.

With the last room cleared out they returned to the middle chamber. There was a sense of weariness that permeated the room. Bodies were on the floor in various states of decay. A demon stood next to a body that did not yet show signs of decay. She recognized the robes. Niall. He'd gotten so close – nearly succeeded before he fell.

"Oh, look...visitors. I'd entertain you but…too much effort involved," it told her.

Her lips spread into a cold smile. "Then I guess you won't be fighting back when we kill you. Good to know."

It raised its arms into a shrug. "But why? Aren't you tired of all the violence in this world? I know I am. Wouldn't you like to just lie down and…forget about all this? Leave it all behind."

Alistair rubbed his eyes carefully with his gauntleted hand. "Can't…keep my eyes open. Someone…pinch…me…Ouch!" he cried when Sten did just that.

"We must stand…and fight!" Why did the weight of his greatsword seem so heavy? How could he fight if he could barely lift it?

"Resist! You must resist, else we are all lost…." Wynne warned.

The demon exerted more power. "Why do you fight? You deserve more… You deserve to rest. Go now…sleep and dream of better things…."

Elvie closed her eyes for a brief moment when she heard bodies drop to the floor. Her gaze rose to meet the demon's and she pushed back, chanting a reflection spell and refreshing her protection glyph. "Release them…now!" she growled.

"Don't you know how this works?" it asked. "I am only wearing this creature, I am in the fade. Killing it changes nothing. The only way to save your friends is to join them. Wouldn't that be easier? Just close your eyes and release your will. Join your friends. If you can find them and if you can defeat me, then you will all go free. Otherwise, they belong to me."

A slow smile spread on her lips. "Inviting me into your home will be the last mistake you ever make."

It chuckled. "We shall see, little mage…we shall see. Now, sleep."

She released the spells and lowered herself to the floor. Her eyes closed and tried to relax. "Invite me in, demon. I'm ready."

She felt a heavy, disorienting pull and when she opened her eyes she was in the Tower, but back at the entrance foyer. Her friends were nowhere to be found. Of course, she did not expect them to be, but it would have been efficient, now she had do things her way. So be it.

She hurried down the hall to talk to the Cullen-thing that appeared to be waiting for her. That demon was evil.

Cullen smiled. "I thought we were all lost – the Tower destroyed, but you came and you saved us, Elvie…and I am nearly afraid to blink – that you will disappear were I to do so. I did not know how much I would miss you when you left, but my life has not been the same. I could not bear to lose you again."

Ouch. She would give almost anything to hear those words from him. But this was not him. "You play with my feelings – you will regret that."

"I already do. I regretted it the moment you walked out the door with that Grey Warden and I didn't stop you. I never meant to play with your feelings, you have to know this. You are a mage; I a templar. It was my task to watch over you and keep you safe, not love you. But I have always loved you. I _will_ always love you. You saved the Circle, now it is our turn to live." Cullen held out his hand towards her. "Take my hand, my love, and we will leave the Circle behind us. I regret that I did not leave the first time, but I will not make that same mistake again. I know where I belong. With you…Always."

The demon could not have hurt her more if he clawed her heart to shreds. That would have been easier to bear than this. "You are trying to give me everything I want, but Cullen would never leave his duties for me – in that, you have failed."

Anger burned in Cullen's eyes. "Foolish mage. I have given you so much and you cast it back in my face. Can you not be content with the peace I offer?"

She closed her eyes, the weight of the pain nearly unbearable. A tear slid down her cheek. "If there were nothing else at stake, I would accept the world you offer. It is all I've ever wanted and nothing I will ever have, but I cannot and will not be selfish when all of Ferelden is at stake."

"It seems only war and death will satisfy you. So be it!" He pulled the sword and shield from his back. "If you cannot live here in peace then you will die here in agony!"

She spelled a protection glyph, and with a heavy heart she fought the specter of the man she loved. She widened the range of her next spell and smashed them with a telekinetic force. She turned to face the two templars she had passed to reach the Cullen-thing. They were weaker and went down after only a few spells. She spun around, her dual-sword staff striking against Cullen's armor and he stumbled back. She threw down a glyph of paralysis, which trapped him when he lunged at her. "You should have released my friends, but you chose to invite me in instead. Now, I'm taking control. My dream – my rules. Fuck you," she said as her sword staff arched out to take off his head. She did not look back at it. She did not want to see Cullen in that state.

"Alistair!" The fade whirled around her and came to a sudden stop. She blinked to get her bearings. She was in the Royal Palace in Denerim. She followed voices to a drawing room. Flames danced in the hearth, giving warmth and comfort. Kael, Lor, Alistair, Ann and another woman were lounging around the fire on padded benches, while children played around them. It was cozy and heartwarming scene, but it was not real.

Alistiar looked up at her and grinned. "Elvie! Come join us. I was just thinking about you…isn't that a marvelous coincidence? I don't think you've met my sister, Goldanna. She has come to live at the castle with her children. See them playing so nicely with their cousins? I've never had so much love and so much family around me. We're one, big, happy family. I am a lucky man."

Her smile was somber. "I've never seen you so content before, my friend."

He drew his arm around his wife. "I am. I'm happier than I've been my entire life. Isn't that strange? I thought being a Grey Warden would make me happy. It didn't. This does. My brother…my sisters…my wife…my children. I have everything a man could want.

"I am overjoyed that I was able to find my little brother and now we are a family, as we were always meant to be!" Goldanna said with a glowing smile.

"I know you are happy, Alistair…but there are things we must finish," she reminded him.

He lowered his head and gave it a slight shake. "I…don't think I'll be coming. I don't want to spend my life fighting, only to end up dead in a pit along with rotting darkspawn corpses."

Lorianna beamed a smile at her. "I'm glad you came by, Elvie. Dinner is about to be served. I do hope you will stay and eat with us."

"Alistair – What you are seeing is not real. It is a dream and it will last only as long as it takes for your body to die. I need you to think carefully about where you were before you got here."

A dream? Die? He wanted to be happy, but he did not want to die for it. "All right, if it makes you happy." What was he doing? Why couldn't he remember? "I…it's a little fuzzy. That's strange…" he rose from where he was seated. Something wasn't right.

"My love…" Annalynn murmured. "I'm getting cold without your warmth. Please, come warm your wife up."

He shook his head. "No…wait…I remember a…tower. The Circle…it was under attack…there were demons…"

She nodded. "One of those demons sent us into the fade. It wants to trap us here."

He rubbed his forehead. "But how can this be a dream? It feels so real…"

"Of course it's real, brother. We killed the archdemon, Ferelden is safe and now it's time for us to enjoy our lives. Be a family," Kael assured him.

Alistair took a step back. "Something…something doesn't feel quite right here. I…think I have to go."

She smiled at him. "Yes, we do. The Circle still needs to be saved."

"No!" Goldanna growled as she rose to her feet. "He is ours, and I'd rather see him dead than free!"

She looked around; the others had risen to fight. "Couldn't you have had a dream with less family in it?" she groused as she cast spells at more people she cared about.

"I'll take that under consideration for the next time," he teased.

"Next time? I would prefer there be no next time. And leave your wife to me. I'll kill her! I – er…didn't mean that the way it sounded. I just know how hard it is to kill something that looks like someone you love." She focused all her spells on Annalynn until she went down.

"If that is the case, maybe I should take a seat and let you kill them all," he pointed out.

This was true. He had been surrounded by family. "You could…at least they go down easy." She dispatched Lor and it left her feeling sick.

He took the head off his brother and his heart twisted in pain. "Can you imagine fighting them at full strength?"

"I …don't think we'd survive that."

"I don't think so either," he agreed as he slammed Goldanna with his sword to knock her over. He repositioned his sword and drove it straight down into his sister. He turned to help her with the children, who had turned into undead – but she'd already taken care of them. "You are an impressive mage."

"Irving was preparing me to take his place as First Enchanter. That seems like a lifetime ago."

He nodded and looked around at all the bodies. "How did I not see this earlier?"

"You are in the fade, Alistair. To you it was real. Rarely can anyone but mages tell the difference," she assured him.

His body felt tingly. "Are we going now? Wait…where are you going? What's happening to me? Hey…" He covered his ears and closed his eyes, not wanting to see what was happening.

She smiled and shook her head. "Wynne!" The fade whirled around her and stopped at the Circle. Dead mages littered the stone floor.

"Maker forgive me. I failed them all. They died and I did not stop it," the senior mage lamented.

What was wrong with Wynne? She was acting as if she believed what she was seeing. "Wynne, you are a mage…why are you letting the fade control you? You are mourning demons while the Circle needs our help." She probably could have been more kind, but she was at a loss as to why the elder mage did not know where she was.

Wynne glared at the young mage. "Elvie! Where were you? You could have helped me stop all this! We needed you and you were nowhere to be found!" She looked back down at the corpses. "Why was I spared if not to help them? What use is my life now that I have failed in the task that was given to me? Just…go. Leave me to my grief. I-"

She shook her head in disbelief. "Wynne! Enough self-flagellation! We need to find Irving! You are in the fade and those are demons at your feet. Please stop and think. Remember what we have to do. Remember the Circle…remember the demon…remember the Litany of Andralla!"

Her brows drew together and she raised a hand to her forehead to rub it. Why did her head feel like a heavy fog? "It is…difficult…to focus. It feels as though something is…stopping me from concentrating. I have never had so much trouble…I – I need some fresh air…to help me think."

A mage rose to its feet. "Don't leave us, Wynne. We don't want to be alone."

Wynne blinked as realization set in. "Holy Maker! Stay away, foul creature!"

"You must defeat your demons or they will not let you go," Elvie warned.

"Stay with us, Wynne. Sleep soundly in the comforting embrace of the earth. Do not fight it. You belong here, with us."

"N-no…Not yet," she said with a shake of her head. "My task is not yet done…it is not my time yet."

"Come," the mage said, "come away to your rest." It pointed towards the other bodies and they rose for battle.

This time there were only three demons to face and they went down quickly. "You did it."

Wynne turned to look at her. "Is it over? Thank the Maker for you. Wait…what's happening? Where are you going?"

"It is you who are going, but I don't know where to…" She frowned, Wynne had already vanished. One more to go and then she had to defeat the sloth demon. _That_ had been his stipulation. "Sten!" Once more the fade swirled around her until it came to a stop at Lake Calenhad. She saw Sten with a couple of other qunari.

Sten looked up to see the mage approaching him. So, in all the fade, in all the dreams, she had found him. "Shanedan. You must be an Ashkaari to have found me in this land of dreams."

"Who are you talking to?" the karashock asked.

"Don't bother the sten. Isn't it your turn to cook?" the other reminded him.

"Cook what? There's no food in the miserable, frozen country."

Parshaara! We have a guest. Make room at the fire," Sten ordered his men.

"Thank you," she replied uncertain how to proceed. Somehow, he knew this wasn't real, yet he did not seem to want to leave.

"You are welcome to dinner, though I _don't_ suggest you eat anything the karashock cooks," Sten warned.

"Unless you enjoy spending time in the latrine," the ashaad smirked.

The karashock frowned. "Then why don't you cook, kadan?"

"Not my turn," he shot back.

Sten glared at the two. "Perhaps my memory is failing. I would swear that I've already told you both to shut up."

"My apologies," ashaad said to the sten.

"These are the ones you came with?" she asked quietly.

"They are Beresaad. My brothers."

"Who is that little thing you are speaking to? Has it seen darkspawn?" the karashock asked.

"Don't interrupt the sten, karashock," the ashaad warned.

Elvie frowned. "This _little thing_ is a _she_ – and yes, I have fought darkspawn."

"Surely, you jest. Women do not fight." Karashock shook his head. "We have seen no sign of darkspawn. We have been days in this place. There's no sign of any threat. The arishock's report was wrong. Can we not go home?"

"No," Sten replied bluntly.

"We need to go, Sten. There is a demon that needs to be killed," she reminded him.

"Let it wait," he stated.

"Feed it the karashock's cooking. That should end it," the ashaad said with a small grin.

"Better yet, feed the ashaad. That would take care of it and do us a favor," karashock shot back.

Sten rose to his feet. "This is a dream. I'm not a fool. I remember seeing the karashock there have his head torn off."

"Well, at least it's not a great loss," ashaad remarked dryly.

Karashock frowned. "You are so entertaining, kadan, you should perform in the square with the other trained monkeys. We could throw you peanuts."

She was enjoying their banter. It reminded her a lot of the camp she shared with the other Paladins. "Your friends…I like them. I can see why you would not wish to give them up."

Sten released a slow breath. "It's a dream. But it's a good dream. There is nothing left to fight for."

She nodded and then smiled when she remembered a phrase from a book she's once read in the archives at the Tower. "Shok ebasit hissra. Meraad astaarit, meraad itwasit, aban aqun. Maraas shokra. Anaan esaam talan." She altered the last word to 'truth' because she felt that in this, it gave more meaning.

Sten stared at her for a moment. A bas…but a woman that he'd come to respect had spoke to him in his own language, quoting the Qun…reminding him of his duty. She was kadan, indeed. "Truth. You are right, victory is in the truth. This," he said pointing to his men, "is an illusion…a lie. I have shamed myself and in doing so shamed you."

She gave a slow shake of her head. "There is no shame in wishing things could have been different. The only shame is in doing nothing to make a difference."

Sten inclined his head to her. "There is much wisdom in your words, kadan."

"Then let us go so that we can find your asala."

He could not stop the smile from forming on his lips. He knew she was referring to his sword, but in truth, a human…a mage was helping him find his soul. He would have thought the idea inconceivable, but there was no denying the truth. "It is time," he agreed.

The two qunari rose to their feet.

"Why have you called her kadan? She cannot mean anything to you. She is bas. Have you forgotten your brothers?" ashaad demanded.

"She has given me back my soul. She is kadan. And I have forgotten nothing. My brothers are dead. My sword is gone. The blight must be ended. And the Arishock demands answers. I cannot do that from here," he told them.

"You cannot abandon your post," karashock growled.

"Stand aside," Sten told them. "I would hate to see you both die again."

"No!" the karashock's arm cut through the air in finality. "We will not let you abandon us again." He pulled his weapons.

She pulled her staff from its restraint and put a spell of protection on her and Sten.

"Bas-Saarebas!" karashock yelled, making her their prime target.

She flung her dual-sword staff in an outward arch sending a powerful blast of telekinetic force at them, throwing them off their feet. She cast a spell of freezing on karashock, while Sten took on the ashaad.

As with all the dream demons, they died far sooner than they would have in life. But it left her heart feeling heavy. Despite knowing what they were, she had liked them – or at least she liked the men they were pretending to be.

"We have won, and yet this gives me no peace. I wish to leave this place-" His body began to tingle. "No! More trickery? What is happening?"

"I will see you soon, kadan…" she told him as he vanished.

-BREAK THREE-

Now for the sloth demon. "I'm coming for you…sloth demon!" The fade swirled around her and stopped at a large clearing. This time there was no illusion, everything was blurred as if juxtaposed. Her eyes spanned the rocky, terrain, with its twisted trees and stunted vegetation. There. She'd found him. He looked like an arcane horror of some kind, but demons were deceptive in form, there was no way of knowing what it truly looked like. That was probably for the best. She approached him, ready for anything.

"What do we have here? A rebellious minion? An escaped slave?" he laughed. "My, my …but you do have some gall. But playtime is over. You all have to go back now."

Alistair blinked. "Oh, here I am! And there you are! You just disappeared. Well, no matter, we are together again."

Finally. "I am here and it is time to finish this!" Sten stated matter of fact. He was tired of this place. "I have had enough of cages."

Wynne squared her shoulders. "You will not hold us, demon! We found each other in this place and you cannot stand against us!"

Elvie crossed her arms over her chest. "I told you once, inviting me into your home would be the last mistake you ever made."

The mage was more clever than it had anticipated. "You may have bypassed my defense and found your friends, but you will never leave. If you go back quietly, I'll do better this time. I'll make you much happier," it promised.

She grinned. "You cannot avoid what must happen and you are right to fear me. There is no going back – I make my own happiness."

"Can't you think about anyone other than yourself? I'm hurt, so very, very hurt." It did not want to fight the clever mage, but it was unwilling to give up control in its demesne.

"Get used to disappointment," she said dryly. "That _hurt_ is the first of many that we will inflict on you, demon. If we have to defeat you to leave, then you are already dead."

It laughed. "So be it. I will enjoy breaking that spirit. You will learn to bow to your betters…mortal!" He transformed into an ogre.

"Didn't I say I didn't want to see an ogre at the top of the Tower? That means I didn't want to see one in the fade either!' Alistair groused.

She threw spell after spell, with bouts of running for her life whenever it charged her. For some reason, it did not seem to like her very much. It wasn't as though it had an ax to grind with her or anything. She had to give Alistair and Sten credit, they did their best to try to keep it focused on them, but it was a stubborn demon that seemed to only care about ending her magy existence.

In a blink it changed into a rage demon. That, at least, was easier to work with. She hit it with a few hexes and then focused on dousing its fire with a little ice until it turned into the visage it had in the Tower, an abomination. She slammed it with more hexes and then cast a spell of collapsing telekinetic energy. When it broke free she laid a glyph of paralysis, it skirted the glyph and ran towards her. She dropped a fire bomb on it and ran to put some distance between them. She turned and cast a spell to slam it into the ground with a telekinetic crush of power. It did not hit the ground as anticipated, but it was obviously stunned and weakened.

When it could move again it changed forms. This time a shade and the battle began again. She was starting to feel the drain of using so much magic. She normally never took potions, but the fight was dragging on longer than she'd expected. She pulled out a lyrium vial with a frown and downed the potion. Her body hummed with renewed energy. And she lashed out at the demon with renewed vigor until it changed back into an arcane horror.

Well two can play at that game. She was fed up with the demon's antics. "Everyone, clear space – I'm coming in big! Wynne – shield me!" she yelled. She chanted the spell that would change her into a dragon. She roared and charged the demon. She raked it with her claws, turned her head and slammed the side of her head against it. She shook her head to free it of the demon impaled on her horns. Her head darted straight at it and she bit down. She lifted it off the ground, threw it into the air and caught it in her jaws for another crunch. The taste of demon ichor coated her tongue and she flung it the ground in disgust. She inhaled and a jet of flame burst from her mouth, torching the demon until there was nothing left of it. She shook her head and turned to look at the others, most of whom were watching her warily. She shook her head and returned to her true form.

Her belly heaved and she dropped to her knees to throw up the demon ichor she'd swallowed. She panted heavily for a moment.

Sten knelt down next to her and handed her a small cloth. "You are atashi, a basalit-an, kadan. You have great strength and are worthy of respect." That was not something he'd ever expected to say to a bas-saarebas, but she was more than that, and thus he would acknowledge it. After she wiped her mouth he helped her to rise.

Alistair had been stunned by what he'd seen. "I was told you could turn into a dragon, but seeing it…wow. It was terrifying - but I also had no more doubts that we would win this battle. But, you know…you could have done that sooner."

Nial walked towards the group in awe and trepidation. The two feeling warred inside of him. "A dragon. How did you learn-" He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. You defeated the demon. I never thought…I never expected you to free yourselves, to free us all. When you return…take the Litany of Andralla from my…body. It will protect you from the worst of the blood magic."

She slipped the cloth into a pocket. "Aren't you coming with us?"

"I cannot," he said with a shake of his head. "I have been here too long. For you it would have only been an afternoon's nap. Your body won't have wasted away in the real world while your spirit lay in the hands of a demon. Every minute I was here, the sloth demon was feeding off of me, using my life to fuel the nightmares of this realm. There is little left of me. I was never meant to save the Circle, or…survive its troubles. I am dying."

No, she wouldn't accept that. "Niall – you aren't dead yet…we can heal you."

"Thank you, but it is too late to me. By the time you return…" he shook his head. "There will be nothing left to heal. I do not fear what may come. They say we return to the Maker in death, and isn't such a terrible thing. My only regret is that I could not save the Circle. But you…you can."

"If we cannot save you when we return, then I will do as you ask and take the Litany," she assured him.

"I'm not…a hero. Perhaps trying to be one was foolish."

She shook her head in negation. "It was not foolish. Success, alone, does not make a hero. A hero finds the strength to preserver in spite of the odds. You surpassed your fears and did what needed to be done. You _are_ a hero, Niall."

A small smile played on his lips. "Perhaps there is truth in your words. Before I was taken to the Circle, my mother said I was meant for greatness, that I would be more than my ancestors could have ever dreamed. I hope I haven't disappointed her."

She smiled at him reassuringly. "Your mother would be proud of the sacrifice you made. I was an honor to have known you, Niall."

"Thank you, Elvie. The honor is mine. Now, it is time for us both to be on our way. Remember the Litany. The Circle is all that matters now. Thank you and goodbye, my friend," he said with an incline of his head.

"Good-" Her body began to tingle and there was a rushing sensation. Her eyes opened and she sat up. The others too were waking. She jumped to her feet and helped Wynne rise and then knelt down next to Niall's body. There was no sign of life. Rest well in the Maker's arms, Niall. She removed the Litany and rose to her feet. "This is it. Last stop. Be ready for anything."

With one last look at Niall, she led them through the room and out the other side. They had one last area on this floor to clean out before they went upstairs to the harrowing chamber. She opened the door and blinked at the sight of dragonlings. She stepped out of the way so the others could enter. She was at a loss as to how baby dragons could have gotten into the Tower and what they could possibly have to do with blood magic or demons. Their presence here made zero sense. "Wynne? Did the tower ever hold a dragon rookery?"

Wynne shook her head, unable to make sense of what she was seeing. "I have never heard of such a thing. I'm as confused as you as to why there are dragons here."

"Watch it – the little bleaters bite!" Alistair said as he jumped back from one that snapped at him.

Well, shit. "I hate doing this, but take them out. We can't leave them to attack someone unarmed."

The dragonlings went down easy; a hard swing of a sword could easily decapitate them. Elvie was disquieted about killing babies simply because no one had been able to feed them. But what was done, was done. They exited out the connecting door to see an abominations standing in the hall. As soon as they moved forward to confront it, another door opened up and more came out to join the battle. Each abomination was another mage lost…and likely someone she knew.

When the battle was over, they peeked into the two rooms on the right, but there were no more creatures to be found. The opened the door into what looked like some kind of gathering hall or meeting room and four shades appeared out of nowhere to attack them. She froze one and hit it with a collapsing telekinetic force. She cast a glyph of paralysis that another shade obligingly stepped into and then bashed it with a stone projectile. She froze it with a spell and Alistair shattered it with his shield.

When the last sank back into the floor a rage demon rose, but it did not last long facing the focused attention of all four of them. She opened the door across from the one they'd just entered through and came to a halt. Cullen…he was alive. Trapped behind some kind of barrier, but alive. Relief rushed through her and she moved swiftly, until only the barrier separated them. "Cullen…"

Sten was surprised to see the templar in the cage. "They spared one. Curious."

Not this again…not her. "This trick again? I know what you are and it won't work." He knelt down on one knee ready for whatever it would do to him. "I will stay strong…"

Her brows drew together in confusion. "Trick?" He wasn't making any sense. "What won't work? Don't you recognize me?"

He looked down so he would not have to see the evil the evil that impersonated the woman he loved. "Only too well." And the pain of it tore at his heart. "How far they must have delved into my thoughts…"

Wynne felt bad for the young templar. She knew well what the pair meant to each other, but could not hazard a guess as to what he'd been through. "The boy is exhausted. And this cage…I've never seen anything like it." She looked at the struggling templar. "Rest easy. Help is here."

How much was he expected to endure? "Enough of visions. If anything in you is human…kill me now and stop this game…sifting through my thoughts…tempting me with one thing I've always wanted but could never have. Using my shame against me…my love for her… a mage…Ahh..I am so tired of these cruel jokes….these tricks…these…"

His words were like daggers to her heart. It would have been better if she'd never acknowledged his interest in her than to see him like this – to know that he was ashamed. "Cullen – it breaks my heart that you feel shame for our love." She wiped the tear from her cheek. "You are the love of my life, but I regret being the bane of yours. If I could release you of your love for me I would – but I will always love you."

His hands clenched into fists. How dare it make him feel guilt…pretend that it was hurt. How dare it tell him words his heart craved to hear every day. Words he missed hearing…words he'd never hear again. He could not think of a worse torture then what it was putting him through right now. He rose to his feet and glared at the demon. "Silence! I'll not listen to anything you say! Now, be gone!" he cried in frustrated anger and closed his eyes.

Her hand rose to her heart, but nothing could quell the agony of his words. She swallowed hard. "Soon, Cullen. Soon I will be gone and I won't bother you again." She tried to stem the silent tears, but they fell despite her efforts.

Alistair stepped forward and placed his hand on her shoulder to let her know he understood her pain. "I don't know what you've been through – I can't even guess. But that gives you no right to abuse a woman that loves you with all her heart. One day you will regret your words and when you do – may the Maker have mercy on you, because I won't. She's my friend and she deserves better than this from you."

"He doesn't know what he's seeing, Alistair. His words were thoughtless, but he's confused," Wynne said quietly.

Cullen opened his eyes. "Still here? But that's always worked before. The voices…the images…they were always so real until I told them to be gone. But you…you're still here. You…then it's really you. Why have you returned to the Tower? How did you survive?"

She could feel the tears drying on her cheeks and wanted to wipe them away, but she would do nothing to draw his attention to them. He had made his position blatantly clear. He was ashamed of her and what they'd shared. Their love. "I came because of a Grey Warden treaty. But I heard what happened and knew I had to try to save as many people as I could. I am…glad you are not among the dead."

"Good," he stated firmly. Kill Uldred. Kill them all for what they've done. They cages us like animals…looked for ways to break us. I'm the only one left. They turned some into…monsters. And…there was nothing I could do."

"Uldred will pay for what he's done, but I must find Irving and the other mages," she told him.

Her words made no sense. Everyone was dead. "What others? What are you talking about?"

"Irving and the other mages that were fighting Uldred. Where are they?" Wynne asked gently. The poor boy had been through so much.

He looked up the steps to the door. "They are in the Harrowing Chamber. The sounds coming out of there…oh, Maker."

"We must hurry. They are in grave danger," Wynne warned.

No! No…there was no saving them. "You can't save them. You don't know what they've become! They've been surrounded by blood-mages whose wicked fingers snake into your mind and corrupt your thoughts."

"His hatred of mages is so intense…" Alistair murmured.

"I know," she said quietly. "Maybe hating me will help him to move on."

Feelings of this nature were messy and could cloud judgment, that was what the tamassran were for. But women would often turn to men to ease needs. "I would ease your need, kadan, if it would help you to move on. The atashi should have a focused mind."

Cullen blinked. "Move on…What – No!" he said looking up at the giant man.

"I was not offering to ease you," Sten stated with a frown.

That was a conversation for another time. She needed to get them re-focused. "Alistair, the anguish he's suffered and his lust for revenge have confused the issue-" Wynne said, trying to ease the pain she knew Elvie was going through. She, too, had been in love with a templar. Perhaps that is why she found so many reasons to be away from the Tower, so that she did not have to constantly be reminded of what she'd lost.

How dare she belittle his thoughts! "Do _not_ presume to judge me, _mage_! I am thinking clearly – for perhaps the first time in my life!"

Ouch. It was done. He could not have been more clear. She would mourn what she'd lost later. Right now, she had to focus on what still needed done. "I'm sorry for what you have suffered, Cullen. I wish I had arrived sooner. Right now, I have to take care of Uldred." She turned away and started climbing the stairs.

No. Not her too. "Elvie, you can't go up there! I won't let you! I couldn't…" he couldn't bear the thought of her becoming like them.

The look she gave him was somber. "If I do not go…Uldred wins. And I won't let him. Take care of yourself, Cullen. I-" Her throat closed up painfully and further words were impossible. She hurried up the stairs and opened the door.

"Elvie!" He cried out and then fell to his knees as pain overwhelmed him. He was trapped…unable to do anything…unable to stop her…unable to help her. He closed his eyes and began mantra of prayer that she would be strong enough to survive.

She'd heard him cry out her name before the door shut behind them and her heart clenched painfully. She pushed the pain under and took a deep breath. When they reached the top of the stairs she saw a mage on the ground turn into an abomination. Another lost…she'd been too late.

"Ah…look what we have here. Irving's beloved daughter…his rising star that he doted on. Uldred didn't think much of you then, but I don't think Uldred gave you enough credit. I feel your power. Care to join in our…revels?"

Her eyes narrowed on the abomination wearing Uldred's skin. "You have felt nothing yet, demon and you do not impress me."

Uldred laughed. "Well, you do have spirit. I love spirit. I don't suppose you left my servants alive? No? A pity."

She pulled her staff free. "What you have done to this place – my home, is unforgivable!

He held up his hand. "Wait, wait, wait…let's not be hasty. I'm trying to have a civilized conversation here."

She slammed the tip of her sword into the stone, sending up sparks. "Why have you done this, demon?"

"A mage is but the larval form of something greater. You Chantry vilifies us, calls us abominations, when we have truly reached our full potential! Look at them," he said with an irritated glance at the mages still on the floor. "The Chantry has them convinced. They deny themselves the _pleasure_ of becoming something glorious."

Wynne was appaled by his words. "You're mad! There's nothing glorious about what you've become, Uldred!"

"That's not Uldred, Wynne," she told her.

"Such a clever girl…no wonder Irving was so taken by you. I am Uldred and yet not Uldred. I am more than he was." His gaze shifted to Elvie. "I could give you this gift, Elvie. You would be my most powerful creation yet!"

Her hand tightened around her staff. "There is no way I would ever let you do that. You have taken your last mage!"

The demon threw his hands up into the air. "Resistance. Everywhere I go resistance! How very inconsiderate. And I wasn't giving you a choice! Right, Irving? I even have the First Enchanter on my side!"

Irving fount to break free of the power that had left him immobile. "Stop him…he…is building an army. He will…destroy the templars and-"

His gaze narrowed on Irving. "You're a sly old fox, Irving, telling on _me_ like that. And here I thought he was starting to turn."

"N – never." Irving said, forcing the word past his tight throat.

"That's enough out of you, Irving. He'll serve me, eventually. As will you."

"You don't know me very well, demon. I'd die before I surrendered to you!" she hissed.

"Killing you would be a waste. The strength of your power with a demon behind it would be unstoppable. I can do that – I can give you even greater power!"

"I do not need greater power and it is time to end this!"

The demon grinned. "Fight, if you must. It will just make my victory all the sweeter."

"Don't forget to use the Litany," Wynne murmured a moment before Uldred turned into a pride demon.

"Well, at least it is not an ogre," Alistair quipped.

The abominations rushed them. She ran in closer and blasted the group with a freeze spell. She backed up and threw hexes at the frozen creatures. She chanted spell after spell, relying on Wynne to keep them all healed. When she spotted the demon casting a spell towards the downed mages she cast the Litany spell to interrupt him.

They took the three abominations down first and then focused their energy on the demon. The more damage they inflicted the more often it would try to hurt the mages and force them into becoming abominations. Niall had been right about the Litany. Thanks to him, she was able to stop the demon from making abominations and thus their battle was hard fought, but easier than it otherwise would have been.

As soon as the demon was destroyed she rushed over to Irving.

"Maker, I'm too old for this," Irving grumbled as she helped him to his feet. He smiled when he felt her arms around him and he returned the brief hug. "I did not think I would see you again, but I am glad I was wrong."

She was still riding a wave of relief. "And I am glad that I did not lose my father to this madness."

"Irving, are you all right?" Wynne asked as she approached them.

"I've...ngh…been better. But I am thankful to be alive. And it is good to see you alive as well, old friend." He looked around to see the other mages that had survived Uldred's spells and then turned his gaze to their rescuers. "The Circle owes all of you a debt we will never be able to repay."

-BREAK FOUR-

She turned when she heard the pounding of boots up the stairs.

Cullen stopped cold at the sight of all the bodies and abominations that littered the Harrowing Chamber. "Oh, Maker." The First Enchanter and a hand full of mages were all that survived what happened here. His gaze locked onto Elvie's. She had survived. But was she herself or was she something else?

Irving looked between the templar and the woman he considered a daughter. "We will give you a few moments. We'll wait for you at the bottom of the stairs. If someone would be so kind as to help me down them."

"Of course," Alistair said. He came forward to drape the First Enchanter's arm over his shoulders. When they reached Cullen he stopped. "Haven't you hurt her enough? Think before you speak." He then led Irving down the stairs.

After the others headed down the stairs Sten stopped next to the templar. "For a man that professes to love, you know nothing of Atashi. Mages are dangerous – but she is more than a mage. She deserves your respect. See that you give it to her."

He watched the giant man go down the stairs. Atashi? Was that some sort of endearment? Did that giant really intend to bed his…Elvie? She wasn't his…he shouldn't care, but he did. He turned to look at her. She had not moved. He was torn by indecision. She had been all he could think about since he'd first met her. When she left it had shattered him. Now, everything he thought he believed had been torn asunder. He wanted to hate her because she was a mage and mages had destroyed the Tower – destroyed his home…killed his friends and comrades. But when he looked at her, none of that seemed to matter. She had saved, not destroyed. But she was still a mage. "Are you…you?" he asked quietly.

She didn't understand why he was here. He'd said his piece. There was nothing more to say. Unless, he was not done with ripping her heart to shreds. She couldn't fathom what he'd gone through, but he should have known who she was. He knew her better than anyone. Or at least she thought he had. And again, he questioned who she was. She released a slow, heavy breath. "I have not looked in a mirror for awhile, but the last time I looked I was me."

His lips twitched, but a smile did not come to them. He moved closer until he stood in front of her. She was as bewitching and beautiful as ever, despite the toll the battle had taken on her. "I feared you were going to your death…or worse."

She looked away from him. "Isn't' that what you wanted? All mages dead? Why do you even care if I'm alive or not? You made yourself very clear to me."

His hand tightened into a fist and he paced away only to return to her. "That is not fair! You weren't here! You didn't go through what we did!"

She frowned. "You're right, I didn't. I wasn't here because the templars…your brothers, wanted to kill me or…worse."

"I wouldn't have let them!"

"You wouldn't have had a choice! You could have come with me, but you chose your job over me. I knew then that I would never have what I needed from you. A home…a husband…children. But still, some part of me could not let go of that dream." She lowered her head and took a shuddering breath. "But today that dream finally burned on a pyre. It was foolish of me to want more than you could ever give. I don't blame you for that. I blame me. I was the one that wanted more – not you. Maybe now, with your hate, you will be free of your shame. But the cost for that freedom was high."

When she turned to walk away he grabbed her arm gently in his gauntleted hand. Her word echoed his heart. He had always wanted those things with her, but he knew he could not have them. Nor could he stop himself from pulling her against him and claiming her lips with a hunger that had gnawed at him since she left. He pulled back when the urge to make love to her, surrounded by corpses, grew too strong. With his heart slamming in his chest and his breath coming in pants he pulled back to look down at her. "I don't hate you. I don't think it's even possible. I have always loved you and I nearly left with you, but what I do here – it matters. This job is important."

Ah, the pain of brutal honesty and after a kiss that had set her body ablaze. "So am I. At least I want to be important to the man I love. You don't have to wear templar robes to protect the innocent. That is a job that you can take with you anywhere. There are always people in need of protection." She knew she was crazy, but she had to try one last time. "Come with me, Cullen."

He closed his eyes as pain assailed his heart. "I can't. I'm broken. I am no good to you or anyone right now. I don't know if I can ever be…right again," he admitted.

She gave a slight nod and backed away. "You should have trusted in me enough to know that I would help you heal. Maker watch over you, Cullen. I hope you find whatever it is you need in life." She walked away without looking back. If she looked back she feared she would not have the strength to walk away knowing that he still loved her.

She heard his scream echoing off the chamber walls before the door closed and shut it off. Her heart wrenched with pain. When she turned to open the door a hand pulled her arm away.

"Give him time, child. He has his own demons he must work through…as do we all," Irving told her gently.

"He didn't trust me enough to let me help him," she murmured.

"Some are blind to what they need most. Let him fight his own demons…he will be a stronger man for it," he reminded her. He knew there was a chance that one day he might lose her to the templar – that they would run away together, but he never would have dreamed he'd have lost her to the Grey Wardens. She was an apostate now, but a sanctioned one and that was better than the alternative. Maybe, after the blight was dealt with, he could talk Wynne into becoming First Enchanter and maybe the Teyrna of Denerim would take him on as a castle mage. It was a nice thought. "Come, the templars await. We shall let them know that the Tower is once again ours."

Greagoir was stunned when he heard Irving's voice behind the double doors. He nodded to his men to open them. "Irving? Maker's breath, I did not expect to see you alive."

"It's over, Greagoir. Uldred…is dead," Irving informed him.

Elvie nodded. "I believe order has been restored to the Circle."

"We will rebuild," Irving said. "The Circle will go on, and we will learn from this tragedy…and be strengthened by it."

Greagoir gave a slight nod. "We have won back the Tower. I will accept Irving's assurance that all is well." He looked down at the mage he'd once taken into custody for trying to escape. Everyone had told him he was going overboard – that she wasn't escaping…that she just need time, but he'd brushed off their assurances. "I was wrong about you. I misjudged your character. You went out of your way to save templars and mages alike. We would have lost far more if it wasn't for the risk you took. I am glad the Grey Warden saved your life by conscripting you. Thank you. You have proven yourself a friend of both the Circle and the templars. For now, I have to attend to the Tower, there may still be survivors left to find. Please, excuse me. And Irving…it is good to have you back."

Irving was also very glad for the Warden's intervention. Under no circumstances would he have allowed his daughter to fall to the templars, even if he had to fall to them to save her. He smiled at Greagoir's words. "Ah, I'm sure we'll be at each other's throats again in no time.

"I'm looking forward to it," Greagoir replied before he turned to gather his templars for a sweep.

He turned to face his daughter. "Now that that business has been taken care of, I believe we need to discuss the treaty that brought you here. The least we can do is help you against the darkspawn. I would hate to survive this only to become overcome by the blight. You have my word as both First Enchanter and…your father. The Circle will join the Grey Wardens in the fight."

Yes…the blight. "Irving…I have a request. I seek leave to follow Elvie and the Grey Wardens."

He suspected she would say something like that. "You were never one to stay in the Tower when there was adventure to be had."

She looked over at Greagoir. There were many reasons why that was so. "You know me well, Irving."

Irving nodded. "That I do. I give you leave to go, but know that you always have a place here at the Circle, my friend." He looked at his daughter. "Come, child…give your father a hug before you go."

She grinned and slipped into his arms. She didn't know when she'd next see him and she needed to feel his comforting embrace once more. "Lor told me what you said. You know I love you, don't you?"

He chuckled. "I know and it warms my heart. I've loved you since I first saw you all smudged and knobby kneed." It was a miracle that they had even found each other. Someday…someday he would tell her the truth. Now that she was no longer of the Circle, he could do so.

"You're embarrassing me," she teased.

"Isn't that what parents are for? At least that's what I've been told."

She pulled back, knowing she had to leave. "I'll visit when I can."

"I'll hold you to that. And if you see her again, tell Lorianna that I found the perfect mage for her."

"What do you mean?" she asked curiously.

"When stopped here on her way to Ostagar she was…interviewing mages for a position at the castle." He stroked his beard. "When the blight is no longer a threat, I think I will find someone else to be First Enchanter. If I do, I'll be in need of a job."

Her hand flew to her mouth in surprise. She couldn't picture anyone else as First Enchanter. But he deserved the chance to enjoy his golden years without the stress of the Circle. "I'll let her know."

"Maker keep you safe, child." He said as he watched her walk away.

He turned at the sound of running feet to find the young in question rush into the foyer. "You have just missed her and that is for the best. Slay your demons before you seek her out. She deserves to have more than you can give her right now."

Cullen nodded. The First Enchanter was right. Elvie was fighting the blight, she did not have time to coddle him while he fought his own demons. "Thank you, First Enchanter. I will do as you say. You will not mention this to the Knight-Commander?"

Irving grinned. "Of course not. Love is not easy to find and it often requires sacrifice, but it is always worth fighting for."

-BREAK FIVE-

Elvie looked back at the Tower doors. There was one person she had hoped to find when they searched the Tower, Neria Surana, her best friend growing up. But she'd found no body, living or deceased and that left an ache in her heart. It was unbearable to think that her friend had become a monster. No…she had to hope the Templars found more survivors. She turned away from the Tower and headed for the dock. It was time Carroll took them back to the Lake Calenhad dock.

Thankfully, Carroll was far more obliging this time around. And soon they were mounted and back on the road, heading to the main camp. They were the closest to the main camp and despite the struggles at the Circle; she still expected them to arrive before anyone else. But what she looked forward to most of all was nightfall and her bedroll.

It took them two and half days to reach the main camp. As she suspected they were the first to arrive. Legion and Taltos greeted them with happy, wagging backsides. And even Bohdan and Sadal were happy to not be alone at the camp any longer. And they were happy to see them. It was too late to hunt, but the dwarves shared their dinner leftovers. Cold meat was a far sight better than dried foods any day.

Settled around the fire she pulled her gaze from the dancing flames and looked over at Sten. "Kadan, we _will_ find Asala, one way or the other. I would leave for Orzammar now, but we both know the blight has to remain our first focus. But, I promise you…when the archdemon has been destroyed we will go to Orzammar and we will hunt down that merchant. We'll find Asala, even if we have to search the whole of Thedas to do so. I want you to be able to return to your home. We all need a happy ending after this…if not happy, then at least content."

He did not for a moment doubt her word. The atashi had a determination like no other. He rose. "Come, walk with me, kadan."

She nodded and was surprised when he offered her a hand up. That was unusual for a man who expected everyone to pull their own weight. She took his hand and allowed him to assist her to her feet. She walked beside him, allowing him to lead. Thankfully, the moonlight kept her from tripping over every stick as he led her through the trees to a clearing edged by a stream. Legion had chosen to follow them and she bent down to pick up a stick and threw it for him. She smiled when he raced off to catch it. "Sometimes I wished life could be that simple. Dream, eat, play…I don't think I'd be happy long, but some moments at least, would be nice."

"Moments like this?" he asked with a slight twitch of his lips.

She laughed. "You have a point. Sometimes it's hard to see the small things when life whirls around you like a maelstrom." She looked up at him. "What did you mean when you said I helped you find your soul?"

He remained silent for a moment and absently threw the stick for Legion when he returned it. "When I was released from that cage in Lothering, I had lost everything. My life had no direction. No purpose. I could not even return home without Asala…I was an exile. The man who would be king and his wife gave me purpose. You have given me direction. When I was content to remain in the world of dreams, you reminded me who and what I was. What my duty was. You have shown me that despite being a woman you have a steel strength worthy of respect and so I follow your lead. You have become kadan to me." He knelt down to scratch Legion's belly and then threw the stick for him again.

She small smile curled on her lips. "Why do you hide it?"

"Hide what?" he asked curiously. He didn't think he hid anything.

"The soft, caring side," she said gently. She probably should not have asked. She knew from his dream that qunari could joke and tease like anyone, but maybe soldiers had to always be soldiers. Their jobs were their names – maybe that is all they were allowed to be.

"Come." He walked to the embankment and looked out at the gurgling stream below them. "I'm not -" the words stilled. "I have feelings," he admitted. He wasn't sure why he admitted that truth to her, maybe because he respected her, maybe it was because he felt comfortable and oddly safe with her. It was certainly not something he'd talk about with his brothers. Despite her sex, did he not then think of her as one of his brother? She was kadan, that is how he should see her. But now he was uncertain what he felt and that didn't sit well with him.

She placed a hand on his arm so he would know her sincerity. "I know, kadan. I never thought otherwise."

He shook his head. "You don't understand. Feelings are not talked about…or most choose not to. It can lead to…re-education if those feelings are found detrimental to the Qun. I am a soldier and must appear as such. Until I have Asala in my hand again, I am exiled. The Qun would see me as little more than Tal-Vashoth. You are not Qun…yet you have accepted me. I did not want to care about a bas-saarebas. But you never once let me be, even when I pushed you away. When I was cold or distant. You became basalit-an then kadan. To you I am more than a sten. I do not know what to make of that. I know only that I trust you with a part of me that is not shared."

His admission touched her. She reached up and settled her hand against his cheek. "I am deeply honored that you would share that part of yourself with me." Her hand slid to the back of his neck and she pulled him down far enough so that she could stand on her toes to brush her lips against his cheek.

His body responded to her touch. Inter-species breeding or falling in love were not allowed, but laying with her was permissible. He covered her small hand with his. "I want to lay with you. Let me ease your pain and see to your needs. I will be…gentle." That was an alien concept to him. Qunari sex was hard and done with. Need sated. Nothing more. But she was small and he did not wish to cause her more pain.

He had offered that in the Tower, but she had not taken him seriously then. She did now. Her love for Cullen would never die. Never fade. But he had refused her twice. He did not trust her. This time there were no 'what-ifs', there was no possibility that he would ever be hers. What they had was truly and completely over and that was a pain that was overwhelming. The man standing next to her had given her one thing that Cullen never had. Trust. "I must know something first. If we lay together, will you be shamed by it?"

"There is no shame in laying with you, Atashi." He brought her palm to his lips. "That man is a fool."

That was what she needed to hear. Her growing smile was wicked. "My pain is deep and my needs are great, are you sure you can handle that?"

His smile was warm and his laughter felt good, alien but good. He was thankful he'd removed his armor for the night when he pulled her up against him. He lifted her off the ground so he did not have to hunch when his lips found hers. He growled when he felt her legs lock around his waist and lowered them slowly to the soft, grassy embankment.

He drew back to pull off his under-armor. He laid his shirt down next to her and then grinned when he rose to pull off his boots and pull down the matching pants. He picked her up laid her on the soft under-armor. He pulled off her boots and watched, his hunger growing, as she removed her under-tunic and lifted her hips to pull down her thin smallclothes. The moonlight made her alabaster skin glow. He smiled as he settled himself between her thighs, balancing his weight on his forearm. "You are beautiful." That was not something he'd ever felt for a bas before, but she was beautiful to his eyes.

He captured her lips while his free hand explored her body, teasing and rolling the tight peak of her breast before sliding lower to slip through her soft curls. He slowly sank a finger into her tight heat. His chest rumbled and he pulled back to suck in a harsh breath. It had been long since he'd visited a tamassran and his body trembled in need. But he was to see to her needs and in doing so his own would be met. One thing that disconcerted him was that he found he wanted to hear more of her soft cries of pleasure. That was not something he'd ever cared about before. He did not pleasure the tamassran, it was their duty to see to his needs. So this – what he was doing, was new to him.

Her moans…her cries…those were his guides, letting him know what she liked the most. He slipped from her heat and grazed against the swelling bud. He closed his eyes to savor her response to him, feeling the slight movement of her hips if his finger strayed from where she wanted it. He mouth trailed down over the swell of her breast to capture the peak between his teeth before drawing it into the heat of his mouth.

Her hands slid through the braids of his hair to hold him close. Now that he knew the motions and touches she enjoyed most his lips and tongue trailed lower to replace his finger. She cried out and her body trembled under the onslaught of his lips and tongue. He felt her move and he looked up to see her balanced on her elbows watching him pleasure her. The glazed, passion filled blue eyes stoked his desire for her.

Her breath came in harsh pants. "So close…" She was teetering on the edge and then she felt his finger slide into her and it pushed her over. Her body stiffened and a guttural cry tore from her lips. She moved against him until and rode the wave of pleasure until she became too sensitive for more. "Make love to me now – I want to feel you inside me."

Make love? No, it did not matter what she called it. He was heavy and aching for her. He slid up her body and slowly sank into her. Too slowly. She was tight and it took a few small thrusts to hilt himself in her heat. Her legs wrapped around his waist and held him prisoner.

"Give me a moment…you're big." He wasn't quite as large as Kadar had been, but she didn't consider that a bad thing at all. Her legs loosened when her muscles stopped protesting and she moved against him tentatively, but felt no discomfort. "Now…"

His body trembled but he held back. That single word was the most beautiful music to his ears. Her muscles gripped him like a glove and gave him a pleasure he'd never known before. Each thrust building on the last. "I'm afraid I will not last, it has been too long and my need…is too great," he murmured against her lips. Her legs tightened around him and she moved against him, drawing him deep as she met each thrust of his hips. His groans turned into cries as he tried to hold back the tide that threatened to drown him.

His hand slid down to where their bodies were joined until her body stiffened and she clamped down around him. He exploded with a strangled growl as she rode him hard until they were both spent. He dropped his damp forehead to hers as he rested on his elbows, trying to catch his breath. He didn't want to leave the warmth of her sheath while her muscles continued to contract around him. He was waiting for her to push him away, signaling that she was done with him, but she didn't. Instead, she held him, her fingertips lightly caressing his back instead of clawing it; and that, too, was a new experience for him.

He slipped his arm under her and rolled them over so that she could rest on him. He wasn't quite sure what do with his arms, so he did as she had done to him and caressed her back. He knew he should leave, but she didn't seem to be in a hurry for him to do so. He groaned when she pushed off his chest, causing him to sink deep into her heat as she sat up. He thought she was going to rise and dismount him, but she didn't. Instead, she ground down on him. He felt her fingernails scrape across his flat, tight nipples and then she leaned down and he felt the flick of her tongue. When she suckled him his hips bucked reflexively to the burst of pleasure.

She grinned. "I did tell you my needs were great…"

He laughed as his hands skimmed down her sides and gripped her hips to guide her movements. "Then I had better attend to that duty."

Freshly sated he was able to last until her muscles gripped him like a fist. Eventually, they rose and put their underclothing back on. He sat on the bank overlooking the stream with her curled up against him and the dog with his head on his thigh. He was completely out of his depths and didn't like not knowing what to do next.

"I'm glad you didn't leave as soon as you…er – were done with me," she admitted.

He rubbed Legion's head and looked down at her. "I was waiting for you to push me away and you didn't. I did not know what to do or what was expected from me, but I was in no hurry to leave your heat."

"Good, because I was in no hurry for you leave." She grinned. "It is far better to be filled than empty."

Her words brought a grin to his lips. "I think I'm going to like this arrangement." He rose and pulled her up with him. "We should return to camp, it is getting late."

She reached up to the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.

"What was that for?" he asked curiously. She did not look like she wanted bed him again.

She patted his cheek. "Just a kiss, big guy. Not all kisses lead to sex. Sometimes it's done just to show you care." She winked at him and started back towards camp.

He caught up with her in a few strides. "You care?"

She stopped and turned to look up at him. "You are my friend and my lover…of course I care."

Lover…that was not a term his people used. But if he continued to lay with her then he supposed that term would be adequate enough. And he _did_ want to continue laying with her. He was not yet ready to give up the pleasure he'd found with her.

She could see his demeanor changed the moment they'd stepped into camp. His body was stiff, his shoulders no longer relaxed and his expression was tight. No. If he wanted to continue to be cold and withdrawn with the others, that was his business. But he would not be that way around her. She stopped next to the fire, grabbed his hand and pulled him forward. She was surprised he did not stop her. "Sten and I are having sex. For now, until we decide otherwise, we are lovers."

"Atashi," he warned. What happened between them was private.

She turned and glared up at him. "No, big-guy. That's not how this is going to work. I will never again let myself be anyone else's dirty, little secret!" She stepped into him so that their bodies touched. "Are you ashamed of me?"

He frowned. "No."

"Are you ashamed of being my lover?"

He scowled. "No!"

"Then I challenge you to prove it." If he ever wanted to touch her again, this was one test he had to pass.

He saw the challenge in her eyes and after the words she spoke he knew she was testing him. He was a private man, used to holding his emotions in check and she knew that. But in this case, after the words she spoke, he knew her need for validation was more important than his need for privacy. She was not his dirty, little secret. He would not be the fool the templar had been. He leaned down and gave brushed his lips against hers.

When her eyes narrowed. His lips twitched. Obviously, that did not meet her approval. His arms encircled her and he pulled her up his body to kiss her soundly. Her legs wrapped around his waist and he groaned. He carried her to his tent and tightened his grip around her as he lowered them to slide between the flaps.

Alistair laughed and looked over at Wynne. "Well, that was unexpected."

"Yes, it was," Wynne said with a frown. She knew how much Elvie loved Cullen and how badly the templar had shattered her. She just wasn't sure if this was the right way for her deal with her pain. She would have a talk with her later, now was obviously not the time.

"I hope she knows what she's doing." Allistair flung the stick he'd been playing with into the flames and crawled into his own tent.

"I don't think she does," Wynne murmured softly into the night and then retired to her tent.

-BREAK SIX-

Wynne could only look on with a heavy heart. She had spoken to Elvie the next morning. Elvie tried to assure her that she knew what she was doing and that they both were going into this knowing it was just diversion, nothing serious. But still she worried. Not just for Elvie, but for the qunari as well. Not that she particularly liked him; he was a hard man to like. But he wasn't that way with the young mage and as time went on he appeared to draw closer to her. In the three weeks they'd been at camp, he'd gone from occasional smiles and touches to spending a majority of time sitting next to her, talking quietly, laughing. She'd even noticed how he looked at the young mage, in unguarded moments, when he thought no one was looking. This – whatever it was they were doing, it wasn't going to end well. It couldn't. He lived and breathed the Qun. He would return to the Qun and she could not go with him.

She had tried to talk to Sten, but he had shut her down. Hard. He would not listen to anything a _mage_ had to say – except for the mage that warmed his bed, apparently. She'd even seen Alistair try to talk to the surly qunari, but Sten had told him that it wasn't his concern and had walked away in the direction of the lake where Elvie had gone to bathe and wash her clothing.

The pair would often wander away from the camp for time alone together. It was during one of these times that another part of their team returned. They corralled, removed the tack and brushed down their horses with dried grass before joining the others at the fire. Wynne was alarmed to see Jowan, a bloodmage, with the group. "Why do you have a blood-mage in your party?" she asked after the initial greetings and introductions had taken place.

Lorianna turned to the older mage she'd been introduced to. "He is my responsibility. I am his mentor. I will tell you our story in a moment. What you need to know is that Irving has accepted that he is with me and I'm hoping that you, too, will give him the chance to atone for his past mistakes." She had noticed two faces were missing. "Did something happen to Sten and Elvie?"

Alistair grinned. "Not as you would think. They wanted some _private_ time."

She blinked. "You are joking." But she knew he was not.

"I wish he was," Wynne told them. "Let me tell you what happened and then you can tell us why Jowan is with you." Wynne explained everything that happened at the Circle and Cullen's reaction to seeing Elvie. How his thoughtless words had shattered her heart. How Sten had come to see her as a friend and how Elvie had turned to him to ease her pain.

Lorianna nodded. They were a very unlikely pair and she was stunned by the news. She rose when she felt the pair's return.

"Your back!" Elvie said with a grin on her face and she rushed over to hug Lor, Kael and Leliana. She introduced herself to the new woman, an elf she discovered was from the Denerim alienage, and then turned to Jowan. "Jowan," she said cautiously.

Jowan held up his hands. "Before you say anything – I'm sorry. I never should have asked you to help us. You were my best friend and I didn't know who else to turn to. I was desperate and I didn't think things through. I have made many…mistakes and I am here to atone for what I've done." He released a slow breath. "I just – I don't want to lose you."

I'm sorry was all she needed to hear. She slipped her arms around him. "I forgive you, Jowan."

Relief washed over him and he closed his eyes in gratitude that he'd not lost his best friend. He'd grown up with her, she was irreplaceable to him. "Thank you."

"Parshaara!" Sten took her arm and pulled her gently away from the mage and back to his side. He felt heat sting his cheeks when he realized what he'd done and he cleared his throat. "You have my apology. That was not well done of me."

"Somebody's getting _possessive_ ," Alistair said with a grin. When Sten glared at him he lifted a brow. "Correct me if I'm wrong – but that _was_ a sign of possession."

"It was romantic," Leliana agreed with a nod.

He glared at the two that had brought up his failing. "I said that was not well done of me," he bit out. "I don't know why I did that. End of discussion."

Leliana laughed. "Ooh…I know why. You have a big soft spot in that heart of yours – _you_ are falling in love with her."

Foolish bas and their senseless notions. "I am not," he growled, unaware that he was still holding her against him.

Kadar was surprised to see the qunari had allowed himself to be with someone he considered a bas. A mage, no less. But his concern lay with Elvie. She was a good woman who had been hurt. He didn't want to see her hurt again.

Since his arm was clamped around her she could do little other than turn into him. She lifted her hand to his cheek to draw his attention to her. "They are only teasing you, kadan…as they would any of their friends. Do not take it seriously. _I_ know you do not love me and that's all that should matter."

He looked down into her blue eyes. Her words brought him comfort and disquiet. He was uncertain why her words caused both emotions to well up inside of him. It made no logical sense. One corner of his mouth turned up. "Your words have merit."

Wynne frowned. The qunari's expression had changed from stony to warm the moment he looked down at Elvie. He acted like a man in love. Jealous over her attention to other men, wanting to spend every moment he could with her, giving her longing looks when she was busy. She'd even seen him pick a flower for her when she went to seek out a bush. He could refuse to see what was in his heart and deny it all he wanted, but it did not change the truth.

"Then let us sit by the fire and hear whatever Kael and Lor need to tell us," she said, reminding him that he still had hold of her.

The heat flooded into his cheeks again but he released her so that could sit down on the log. He made sure to leave space between them – that is, until she gave him that disappointed look. He scooted in next to her so she could snuggle into his side. Humans liked to touch. A lot. But he found it did not bother him any more…at least not when it was the touch of Atashi.

Lorianna felt bad for what might have been. She couldn't imagine what the templar had gone through that would change his love for Elvie. No matter, that was a concern for another time. She told them about going to Denerim and how that pointed them to Haven. She explained about the disciples cult and the gauntlet they had to go through before they were allowed a pinch of the ashes. She mentioned what happened at Redcliffe and the castle, Jowan's mistake and the risk he took to right it – how he successfully saved Conner and Isolde and how they would return to Redcliffe when they were ready for the Landsmeet to be called.

"Vashedan! I should be doing something more," Sten grumped.

Kael could well understand the man's impatience. He'd already been waiting at camp for three weeks. "Waiting is never easy. You are welcome to leave and attend to any business you have, but if the others return we will be forced to leave without you. We need to unite the lands if we hope to defeat the blight."

He thought about his sword and then shook his head. "Leaving now would serve no purpose. I do not want to miss the battle."

"Then enjoy this time you have to its fullest, Sten. It may be a long time before we have such again," Lorianna pointed out.

She was right. For him it would be never. Once the battle was over, his sword found and he returned to the Qun – there would be no times like this.

Kadar rose from where he was seated. "I found something I thought you may want to have."

Sten looked up at the mage and then away. "There's nothing I want-"

Elvie elbowed him in the belly. "Sten…" she warned.

He sighed. "Oh…very well. What…" He saw the sword being pulled from Kadar's back and he rose, placing himself between the vashoth mage and Elvie.

Kadar shook his head and placed the blade of the greatsword across the palm of his hand and held it out to him.

Sten's heart pounded. Asala. He took the sword from the mage, his hand running down the blade. "Strange. I ahd almost forgotten it. Completion. You are more than a saarebas. I think you must be ashkaari to find a single lost blade in a country at war."

"You are welcome, Sten," Kadar replied.

He looked down at his sword and then back at the vashoth – no…Kadar. "I would thank you for this, if I knew how. I still think you are dangerous, but you have impressed me. I will not forget what you have done for me…Kadar."

And that was the best he would get from him. Kadar inclined his head and returned to Leliana's side.

He grabbed the greatsword that lay next to his armor, pulled it from its scabbard and fastened Asala into the scabbard. He nodded with satisfaction. He looked up when a shadow fell across him and smiled at Elvie as he rose.

She smiled softly at him. "I'm happy for you. I knew it would be found. Will you be returning home now that you can?"

He slipped his arm around her and pulled her close. "No, kadan…" He lifted a hand and gently brushed a stray lock of hair from her cheek. "I'm not yet ready to…leave. And I could deliver a much more satisfying answer to the arishok's question if the blight were ended, don't you agree?"

"I agree," she said as she laid her head against the padded underarmor he wore. She smiled softly as his hand raised to cup her head and hold her to him. Even though this would only be a brief moment in his life, she was glad that he would leave with memories of the freedom he'd known while he was with them.

When the couples all went their own ways the four remaining party members looked at each other uncomfortably. Everyone said 'no' at the same time and slipped into their tents as fast as they could.


	8. A Thedas Tale Ch8 - Brecilian Forest

Dragon Age

A Thedas Tale

Ch 8 – Brecilian Forest

Gilmore tossed a hare bone into the fire. "I'm still having those disturbing dreams. Are you two as well?" he asked the other Grey Wardens.

Lyrica watched as the fire spit sparks from his offering. "Yes, I am."

"I'm not much bothered by dreams," Berchan admitted. "But I rarely dream of anything."

Gilmore nodded. "Alistair did say that some were more sensitive to the darkspawn than others. I could wish I were less so." He looked over at Lyrica. "Is this your clan that we will be visiting?"

"No," she said with a shake of her head. "My clan was in the process of moving north when I left. They would be well out of the region by now. "I'm not sure which clan was spotted, but we are all relatively close. I don't think they will have an issue fulfilling the treaty."

Bethany leaned into Gilmore. "Tell us more about the trouble you and Kael got into, Gil."

Gilmore chuckled. "I can tell you he didn't appreciate the fact that I had a crush on Lor. Oh, he didn't tell me at the time, no…that would have been too kind of him. Instead, he gave me misdirection when I asked him what I needed to do to woo her. He told me she loved the scent of the lenasi flower, so I picked her a bouquet of them. She _did_ love the scent…but she broke out in hives," he shook his head at the memory. "Another time, he told me she loved the tender meat of baby hares. It took me a week of hunting to locate a burrow with babies. I invited her to dinner and she enjoyed it immensely…until she asked what it was. When I told her, her stomach heaved and the results were horrendous. Apparently, she cannot bear the death of any baby, regardless what it is. It took me two days to scrub the - er…after affects from my clothing. Oh, how Kael roared with laughter over that one when he saw me scrubbing my clothes. You would have thought I'd learned my lesson. But I had one more to learn. Honey. He told me that was her weakness…and I knew that to be true. She loved honey. He told me where I could find a hive if I wanted to gift her with some, but he failed to tell me how to retrieve the honey…at least safely. I was stung so many times that I had huge, swollen welts all over. That little shenanigan backfired for Kael. She loved the honey and lavished me with attention. It even earned me a kiss. Ha! It had been worth it, especially the look on Kael's face when she kissed me for my trouble."

He smiled and rubbed his cheek. "It was that look that made me realize he was in love with her. He had never pressed his suit with her, but I stopped wooing her. He was my friend and once I realized he loved her I understood why he did not press his suit. The prince. I pushed at him relentlessly - he was being an idiot. Any fool with eyes could see she loved him and now that I knew he felt the same, I wasn't going to let it go. I was proud of him when he finally stopped being a fool."

Bethany thought she'd be jealous, but she wasn't. It was hard not to love Lor, so she didn't hold that against him. "You went through a lot to woo her. Should I be jealous?" she teased.

He dropped a kiss on her lips. "Not even a little. I'm selfishly glad you chose to come with us. I'd like to think I had something to do with that."

Bethany ruffled his short, red hair. "Maybe just a little," she said, pinching her fingers together with a grin. "I had to come. What they are doing – it's important and they had no true healing mages. I wanted to help." And, yes, she wanted to be with him. So far, he was everything she'd hoped to find in a man. Time would tell if he remained so.

It was nice to see love blossoming in dark times. But, perhaps, it was more likely to blossom during the darkest hours. People needed something to fight for…something to cling to in the chaos around them. "What about you, Berchan…do you have someone waiting for you back home?" She hoped not, because she'd been enjoying his company at night. She had assumed he was free from entanglements, but hadn't asked him.

Berchan tossed the remains of his dinner into the fire and then rubbed the back of his neck. "Not anymore. I – there was someone, but she found another a couple of years back. You are the only woman in my life right now," he admitted.

She nodded. "Good. Being the _other_ woman is not a path I choose to tread upon." She ran her fingertips over his stubble. "You need to shave come morning. But tonight…I'm sure you can find some use for it," she said with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

His laugh was rich and hearty. He knew she didn't care for beards and he'd been more than willing to shave for her, but she did like the feel of his stubble against certain…more sensitive areas. "I've no doubt that I will." She was the first elf he'd ever been with and he enjoyed her immensely. She was a spunky little thing that didn't take any shit from anyone, which tended to get her into more trouble than not. But she was smart as a whip and had a generous heart. He knew she'd never admit it, but she needed him to lookout for her. And he did so, without a thought.

Like the rest of the men in his family, he was a large man, coming in at 6'4" and a wall of muscle, which put him over a foot taller than and twice as wide as his petite lover. Truth be told, he liked the size difference between them and by the way she climbed him, it appeared she did too. "And you, little one…is there someone that would seek my head for touching his woman?"

The smile slipped from her face. "No, mountain man, the man I was to have wed died from the taint before I became a Grey Warden. His name was Tamlen. We hunted for him, but he had vanished. Becoming a Grey Warden saved me from the same taint. He – he never got that chance."

Now he wished he had not said anything. "That can't have been easy. I'm sorry you had to go through that."

She looked up into his light brown eyes. "It is never easy to lose someone you care for, no matter how they are lost to you."

"What was it like living without a home?" Bethany asked quietly.

"I never felt like I didn't have a home. My clan was my home. But I understand what you meant. I do not know what it is like to have a permanent dwelling as a home, so I cannot compare. But there is a sense of freedom being able to pick up and move whenever you need to. If you needed to follow a migrating herd, you could do so. I enjoyed the clan gatherings the most. We had small gatherings every couple of years, but all the clans would unite every ten years for a large gathering, the arlathvhen. It was an exciting time, getting to mingle with other dalish, trade stories, look for potential spouses. It was a time of revelry. It never lasted long though, the shem – the humans didn't look kindly upon our gatherings and too many mages in one spot could draw templar notice. But it was fun while it lasted."

"Would you go back if given the chance?" Berchan asked her.

"Y-" But the word did not fall off her tongue as it should have. "I would have thought I'd have said _yes_ without a thought. But I am not the woman I used to be. I do not know if I would fit in now." In truth, she wasn't sure she fit in anywhere now. She hadn't wanted to be a Grey Warden, but maybe that was all she ever could be now. "So, the answer to that is I don't know. I guess I will have to wait to see which way the wind blows when the blight is no longer a threat."

"Fair enough," he said with a nod. "It's all any of us can do."

Lyrica emptied her supper into the fire, stood and stretched. "I think I'll turn in for the night. See you both in the morning."

Berchan faked a yawn and rose. "I am suddenly very tired myself. Good night."

Gilmore laughed. "I'm sure you have sleep on your mind," he teased the big man that was crawling into the tent.

Berchan turned and poked his head out of the tent flaps. "You'd be wrong about that," he said with a wink and disappeared back into the tent.

"No doubt." He turned to look at Bethany with a wicked gleam in his eyes. When she giggled and darted into their tent, he was right behind her.

The morning came too soon and in little over an hour they mounted once more and were on their way. Since they were in the northern Bannorn and there were no real roads to follow through the hills it took them nearly nine days do reach the Brecilian Forest and another day to locate the clan's camp. They dismounted out of respect when the clan scouts approached them.

"Andaran Atish'an, my friend. You have come a long way." She glanced at the shem but chose to ignore them. "I am Mithra and I give you the welcome of our clan. These are curious companions you have. Might I ask the purpose of your visit?"

Lyrica inclined her head. "Ma serannas, sister. I am Lyrica. We are here to speak to the keeper concerning the Grey Warden treaty."

Mithra's eyes widened. "The Grey Wardens? You…have joined their ranks? How unusual. Excuse my surprise…I will take you to the keeper right away."

Zathrian's brows rose. "I see we have guests…and one of our own, no less. You are older, but I recognize you from a past gathering. Lyrica…of the Sabrae Clan. Aneth ara, da'len. I am Zathrian, keeper and hahren of the Saoirse Clan"

"She comes on behalf of the Grey Warden treaty," Mithra informed him.

"Ma serannas, Mithra, you may return to your post," Zathrian told the scout.

"Ma nuvenin, keeper." Mithra inclined her head and departed to return to her vigil.

He settled his attention back on his new guest. "The Grey Wardens? How unusual that one of our own should join their ranks. How did such a thing occur?"

"Yes, I am Lyrica and I remember you, Zathrian," she said with an incline of her head. "Becoming a Grey Warden was not a choice I would have made, had I a choice. A tainted mirror was found in some underground ruins. My partner…touched it and we were hit by a shockwave of taint. I was found, but he was not. A Grey Warden took me away to try to save my life," she admitted." Now, I do what I must."

A mirror? In old elven ruins? "It must have been an eluvian. How fascinating. I wonder how it became tainted?" He shook his head. "Ma serannas for sharing your story, da'len. I wish I had time to discuss it further with you. If you came to bring news of the blight in the south, it is not needed. I had already sensed the corruption. I would have taken the clan north by now, had we the ability to move. Sadly, as you can see, we do not.

She had notices disquiet around the clan. "What is happening to clan Saoirse?"

"Do not allow our troubles to burden you, though I suspect they may impact your mission. Unfortunately, we may not be able to live up to the promise we made. This will require some explanation, de'lan. Please, follow me. He motioned with his hand and led them to where their ill were laid out on cots. Their bodies contorting in agony, the sounds of their pain were even more heartbreaking.

"The clan came to the Brecilian Forest not one month ago, as is our custom when we enter this part of Ferelden. We are always wary of the dangers in the forest, but we did not expect the werewolves would be lying in wait for us. They…ambushed us, and though we drove the beasts back, much damage was done." He knelt down next to one of the men. "Many of the warriors lie dying as we speak. Even with all of our magic and healing skill, we will eventually be forced to slay our brethren to prevent them from becoming beasts." He lowered his head, a heavy weight upon his heart. "The blight's evil must be stopped," he said as he rose to face them, "but we are in no position to uphold our obligation." He inclined his head. "I am truly sorry."

Her brows drew together in confusion. "We have come down to the forest a few times, but they have never attacked us. We would occasionally see glimpses of them, as if they were observing us, but then they would melt into the forest and disappear. I wonder what has caused them to attack?" She shook her head. "What can we do?"

"Little, I'm afraid. The affliction is a curse that runs rampant in their blood, bringing great agony and then ultimately either death or a transformation into something monstrous. The only thing that could help them must come from the source of the curse itself, and that…that would be no trivial task to retrieve," he warned. "Many of our hunters and warriors have tried and failed. Some, never to be seen again."

She turned to look up at her companions. "Are you willing to help me in this?"

"Of course, I will." Bethany told her. "No one should have to suffer like this."

"I will too," Gilmore said with a nod. "This is a wrong that must be righted."

When her gaze turned to him, Berchan smiled at her. He would not let her go on a dangerous quest without his protection. "We came here for a reason and I will do what I can to ensure you succeed."

She nodded and turned back to face Zathrian. "Tell us what needs to be done."

Shemlen showing nobility and ready to follow an elf into danger. That he had not expected. But he could not tell her that her friends would be seen as traitors to the werewolves, thus they would be in greater danger than she, herself. Not without telling her everything…and that he was not ready to do. "Within the Brecilian Forest dwells a great wolf. We call him Witherfang. It was within him that the curse originated, and through his blood that it has been spread. If he is killed and his heart brought to me, perhaps I could destroy the curse, but this task has proven dangerous to us. I cannot risk any more of my clan."

She was silent for a moment as she thought over his words. "You said _perhaps_ you could cure them, so finding the heart may be for naught." She felt Berchan's large hands settle on her shoulders to show his support.

Zathrian looked up at the large shem that touched her and frowned. Elves should not mate with humans, a race that had enslaved them for a thousand years. The only thing that soothed his ire was that the large human seemed to be following her, not the other way around. That, in itself, was a novel occurrence. "There is no guarantee that this will work as I suspect, but it's the only hope we have left," he admitted.

She nodded. "Then we will seek out this Witherfang."

He felt as though he was sending her to their death. He did not mind the shem dying, but enough dalish had already been lost to the curse. He didn't want to see that happen to her. "Since you have been to the forest, I do not need to warn you of its dangers, but your friends should be aware that because of the vast number of deaths and blood that have soaked the forest, the veil is thin and spirits possess both the living and the dead. While I wish I could do otherwise, we are in desperate need of help and I cannot refuse it were you to give it."

"Do you know where Witherfang might be or how I would know him from other wolves?" she asked him.

"Watch for the white wolves. They are his eyes and ears in the forest," he told her.

She nodded. "Then our path is set."

He inclined his head to her. "I must return to caring for my people. Creator's speed on your way, da'len. Dareth shiral."

When he left she turned to the others. "Thank you all for your support. Now, let us replenish our stock of dried goods, I do not know how long we will remain in the forest and it is best we not harvest anything but meat from within."

She spotted Varathorn over by his aravel. She waited until he was done upbraiding his apprentice. "Aneth ara, Valathorn."

"Aneth ara, da'len. It's been some years since I saw Master Ilen at the last gathering. He is hale, I hope?" Varathorn inquired of her.

She smiled and nodded. "He was a well as ever when I last saw him."

"That is good to hear. Your clan is more familiar to us than most, since we do not stray far from each other in this land. And Tamlen, he is doing well too? I imagine you are wed by now? Though, I am surprised he is not with you." Tamlen had joined the Sabrae Clan at the last gathering after the pair had taken a shine to each other. In return, they were given Dyani, so that their keeper could have a first. But Zathrian had fallen for the young maid and wed her.

"Ir abelas, Varathorn, but Tamlen and I were tainted by an eluvian in an ancient elven ruin. I was taken by a Grey Warden so that my life could be saved. Tamlen…he did not survive the taint."

That brought sorrow to his heart. "Ir abelas, ma falon. It saddens my heart for you both. You were perfect for each other." He noticed the large man stiffened and wondered why his words had that effect on him, unless…no, that did not bear thinking on.

"Ma serannas, Varathorn. I hope that Dyani fares better? I have missed her since she left," Lyrica told him.

Mention of the young woman put a smile on his face. "Much has happened, da'len. The keeper has bonded with her. They have a daughter, Niara, she is but two and refuses to leave her mother's side. Dyani is even now round with his child…or children. It is believed she carries two. I imagine she is at rest or you would have seen her at his side. Until we entered the Brecilian Forest, the keeper had become softer…serene. Now, he fears for his wife and children as much as for his people. Much is on his mind."

That, she had not expected. The vast age difference alone surprised her. Perhaps her friend had bonded with the keeper to solidify her place in the clan? "I am glad she is doing well and I'll make sure I see her before we leave."

"I'm sure she would most displeased were you not to seek her out," he said with a grin. "You know, I met your father. He was once keeper of your clan. You carry many of his features. He spoke at a gathering, telling the clans that more of us needed to voyage into the shemlen world and learn their ways. He would be proud to see his daughter a Grey Warden, I think."

His words touched her heart. So few spoke of the dead and it was good to hear someone tell her about the past. And it was odd that while her father did not raise her she still had the same opinions he held. "Ma serannas, lethallin. It warms my heart to hear something of the past."

He nodded. "Our people speak so little of the dead, especially those who end in…in tragedy. But I thought you should know, regardless."

She inclined her head. "I appreciate it. We will be heading into the forest soon to seek out the lost hunters and Witherfang and we need to stock up on supplies as I do not know how long we will be away from the camp," she told him.

He handed her the supplies she requested. "I would appreciate it if you kept your eye out for something in the forest. There is a wood that, if treated properly, is as hard as steel but far lighter. It has a blue cast to it and it is called ironbark. You can only harvest the bark that has fallen off the tree from age. If you chance upon some, please gather what you can of it, da'len. The keeper has forbidden us from entering the forest to collect the wood; this means I cannot make our finest crafts for years to come."

"If we find any, we will gather some for you."

Varathorn smiled. "Ma seraanas, lethallan. Dareth shiral."

"I am proud of your people, little one," Berchan said as they moved away from the landship. "They stand proud and did not submit to the tyranny of others."

She blinked and looked up at him. His words had caught her by surprise. "I did not think a human would feel that way," she admitted.

He laughed. "Not all humans treat elves abominably. When this is over, and if you are willing, I will take you to Craighorn Keep. You will see what life is like there for the staff. All staff are cared for, paid and treated the same regardless of who or what they are."

"It is also different in Orlais. Some elven slaves in Orlais are held in such high regard that they have become arrogant. They are wealthier and hold more prestige than many minor Lords here in Ferelden," Leliana assured her.

Did her friend not fully understand what she'd just said? She pursed her lips and then frowned. "My friend, they are still slaves. I would rather live poor and free than be a wealthy slave. Fancy clothing with a collar and leash is no way to live. I am no one's bitch. Can you honestly tell me you would be willing to subjugate yourself for the rest of your life for a silk dress?"

The smile slipped from Leliana's lips. "No…no, I suppose I wouldn't. I'm sorry, Lyrica. My words were thoughtless. Thank you for letting me see it another way."

Because Gilmore had such high regards for his former employers, he couldn't let these words go unsaid. "The Couslands, too, have always treated their servants – staff, Lor would kill me for calling them servants, with respect. Well, except for Nan. But Nan could be unpleasant to everyone. I think they only kept her because her cooking skills were phenomenal."

-BREAK ONE-

Lyrica came to a stop when she heard a greeting.

Athras forced a smile for their guests. "Aneth ara, ma falon. It is good to see one of the Sabrae Clan. Where is your clan now, if I might ask?"

"They moved north after I left with the Grey Warden, Damon," she told him.

"I see. I am glad you have become part of such a respectful organization as the Grey Wardens. Few of us ever see that distinction. I understand you will search for the wolves in the Brecilian Forest. I would join you, but Zathrian has…forbidden me."

"I have been told it is a dangerous time to enter the forest and that many hunters have gone missing. Why do you want to risk yourself in that way?" she asked curiously.

"My wife, Danyla, and I both fought the werewolves that ambushed us. She was gravely injured and the curse spread rapidly in her. Zathrian fought hard to ease her pain, but there was little he could do. And though he says Danyla is dead, he will not let me see her…her body." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I believe she has become a werewolf, and that it is being kept from me so that I do not go chasing after her. If I could just…know if Danyla is alive, or what happened to her…then I could be at peace," Athras explained.

She wasn't sure how she would be able to tell one werewolf from another, but she had to do what she could to help him. "I will keep my eyes open. If I hear anything about your wife, I will let you know."

"Ma serannas, lethallan. I cannot thank you enough. Dareth shiral."

She inclined her head and moved in the direction of where Sarel was to learn a bit more about what was happening. A youth stood up at her approach.

"You are the Dalish Grey Warden. Andaran atish'an. It…it is good to meet you," Cammen said a bit in awe. He had heard stories of Grey Wardens but had never met one. The fact the she was one of the people made the meeting all the more exciting.

"Ma serannas. I am Lyrica."

"I am Cammen, a hunter apprentice. Though I wish I could become a real hunter," he admitted.

"Ah…the forest is too dangerous and Zathrian will not let you enter it. I understand that must be frustrating," she said trying to sooth him.

"Yes. I've been an apprentice for too long and I need to bring back the pelt of a beast."

She nodded. "I remember my own apprenticeship. I brought back the pelt of a bear. That is not what I'd intended to hunt, but it decided to hunt me. I was lucky to come out the victor," she told him.

His eyes opened wide. "A bear? I could not imagine killing such a beast by myself. You were lucky, indeed. I was hoping for a boar or a wolf. But now…no one is allowed in the forest and I must remain an apprentice." He walked around a large tree to get to a better vantage point as he spoke. "But the real problem is Gheyna."

She looked over to see the red head he was looking at. "Why is Gheyna a problem?"

"She is my heart's desire. I have asked for her hand, but she cruelly refuses it. She will not bond with an apprentice, she says, and calls me a child. Since I cannot enter the forest, I cannot become the hunter she needs."

"I will talk with her, Cammen. Sometimes people just need to see things another way. Once they do, there is an understanding that they once lacked," she assured him.

He shrugged. "I do not know what good that would do. The situation hasn't changed. I just…I do not want to lose her to a more experienced hunter."

"Lyrica is right, she is good at getting people to see things another way. Let her help," Leliana put forth.

He nodded, the first ray of hope warming his heart. "Syrannas! Oh, ma serannas! I will pray to the goddess of love that you are successful!"

He was truly adorable. She hoped she would be able to give him his heart's desire. She hurried over to where Gheyna was seated. The girl rose as they approached.

"Andaran atish'an, Gheyna."

"It is good to see another of the people from elsewhere, but how did you know who I was?" Gheyna asked curiously.

"I spoke with Cammen. He mentioned you," she told her.

Oh dear. Did he give her an earful? "What did he say?"

"He said you are his heart's desire, yet you refuse to give him your hand because he is not allowed into the forest to slay a beast and become a real hunter."

His heart's desire? Romantic, but not good enough. She shook her head. "I cannot accept his proposal. He's been a hunter's apprentice for over two years now and he's yet to slay a proper beast. Each time he tried, something has gone wrong. Perhaps the creators do not wish us to bond."

She pursed her lips and nodded. "Perhaps, or perhaps the Creators are testing your love for each other – to see if you can weather the rainbows as well as the storms. Life is not always easy and lovers must stand strong together in light of anything that happens."

Her words were true. She not thought of it in those terms before. But still… "But…what if he never becomes a proper hunter? What will become of our family?"

"If that is the case, then have him look after the children while you hunt. Everyone is good at different things and maybe his strength lies in family. Regardless, you cannot know he will never become a proper hunter. If you love him, believe in him and help him succeed, in whatever he ends up doing. Just as he will help you succeed. That is what love is all about….working together, because together you are stronger than apart. You are whole."

Gheyna blinked and then giggled when the giant shemlen pulled the woman into his arms and gave her a passionate kiss.

Berchan cleared his throat and released her. "Sorry. I don't know what came over me." Though, in fact, he did know. He'd found her words oddly touching. And he wasn't ready to think about what that might mean.

Gheyna locked forearms with the woman. "Ma serannas, lethalan. You have helped me see things clearly. I do love Cammen and I have not been kind to him. He has always been there for me, but I have not been there for him. That will change. I will speak with him."

They followed Gheyna. This was personal between them, but if there was anything more she could do to help, she would. The kids obviously loved each other. And love was too precious to give up on.

Gheyna stopped in front of the man she loved. "Cammen, I am sorry for what I put you through. I was not thinking of what you and I could accomplish together. Instead, I was seeing only what you haven't yet done on your own. But as a couple we are stronger, our accomplishments shared. So, yes…I will give you my hand and together we will do what alone we could not."

Relief flooded through him. She would be his. He would have his heart's desire. "Ma serannas, Gheyna. You've made me a happy man. I feel blessed by the gods today." He felt even more so when she brushed her lips against his. He slipped his arm around her and turned to the woman that had helped him. "We are both very grateful for the part you've played in bringing us back together. I would like to give you something for everything you've done for us." He removed the pendant from around his neck/ "It's been in my family for a very long time."

Lyrica leaned down to brush her lips over the chained pendant that sat in the palm of his hand and shook her head as she folded his fingers back over it. "Keep, it Cammen and consider it a token of love that will bring you luck."

He couldn't believe she'd gone out of her way to help without seeking a reward. "I – ma serannas, lethalan." He slipped the pendant back over his head. "I will be a hunter before long, thanks to your blessing of luck. I wish I had some way to repay your kindness."

"You do," she said quietly. "Help someone else in need. There is no need to pay it back, when you can pay it forward."

"I will do as you say," Cammen replied with a nod of his head, before taking Gheyna's hand and leading her a bit further away.

She grinned continued to the campfire where Sarel was seated.

He was hoping Lyrica would stop to talk to him before she left. "Andaran atish'an, lethalan! I am surprised but pleased that you helped two children find their way back to each other. Would you come and help us break our fast?" Sarel asked.

"Ma serannas, Sarel. We shall do so," she said with a smile.

"Come, then, and sit. Join us by the fire," he said as he motioned to an empty bench.

Breakfast was a quiet affair and she noticed Sarel's look of distrust upon her companions. She hoped it would not end up being an issue, but it did cause her to eat quicker.

"I am the clan hahren and story-teller, lest you have forgotten. Does Hahren Paivel still live?" Sarel inquired.

"He does," she said with a soft smile.

"That is good, for he was old even when I but da'len. How lucky you are to have been reared with his tales. I noticed you are…not alone. Those companions of yours are Grey Wardens like yourself?" he asked as he looked them over.

She placed a hand on Berchan's thigh. "Berchan and Gilmore are," she said as she pointed to the red haired man further down on the bench. Bethany is a friend…a mage wanting to help with fighting the blight."

He somehow felt better knowing the humans were Grey Wardens. "A Circle mage then? Aneirin has spoken of his old mentor, Wynne. He prefers to live outside the camp…in the forest. If you run into him, he would probably like to hear how she is doing."

Bethany's mouth fell open and then snapped shut. Perhaps it was safer to be believed a Circle mage. "Thank you for letting us know."

Lyrica gave her a slight nod. She knew the elves would not care if she was an apostate, for all dalish mages were apostates to the Chantry. She, herself, was borderline. She never practiced spells, but she did have an unusual empathy with animals. She knew what they were thinking and feeling and they seemed to understand her as well. Both her intensions and her words.

"Andaran atish'an," he said to the others. "Enter this camp in peace. I do find it odd that any of your kind would so readily follow one of the Dalish," he admitted.

"Why?" Berchan asked. "She is an intelligent woman, who knows when to be soft as down and when to be harder than steel. She is a better leader than most men I have trained under. I would willingly follow her to hell to fight at her side." And to keep her safe.

He did not expect to hear that coming from a shemlen. So few were willing to acknowledge their abilities. "That is commendable," he said to the giant Grey Warden. His gaze settled on Lyrica. "Do you suppose you have been made a Grey Warden simply to get our assistance? Maybe they think we would not live up to the treaty otherwise."

The smile on her lips faltered. "I almost wish that was so. Tamlen and I were tainted by an eluvian in an old ruin. I was found…but Tamlen was lost to us. I became a Grey Warden to save me from the taint. The Wardens didn't even have the treaties when I joined their ranks."

"Ir abelas, lethalan. Mala suledin nadas. And now you must endure," he repeated so as not to be rude to the other guests. "I apologize for my words. My wife was lost to the werewolf's curse and I am not myself."

"Ir abelas, Sarel. I understand. We have both lost someone we loved to taint," she said kindly.

Sarel nodded. "Ma serannas. Better her suffering be ended now than for her to have become a…a beast. These have not been easy days for us, and the idea that we may yet have to abandon our ill to their fate…" He shook his head. It did not bear thinking on. "But let us not dwell on our problems. Is there something we can do to help you in your quest?"

"You have done much already in filling our bellies. But I would ask if you know how the werewolf curse came about?"

"Due to your own clan's visits to the forest, I'm sure you're aware that the forest has grown on the graves and blood of the dead. Many wars against the Imperium were fought here and the veil to the beyond is thin. The legends say that one of the spirits that crossed over possessed a wolf that became Witherfang, who passed its curse of rage onto men and created the original werewolves."

"And if it is alive after all this time then it is immortal," she said softly.

Sarel nodded. "So it is said. Perhaps it cannot even be slain. At the very least it is old and powerful, much as Zathrian himself."

She did notice that Zathrian had not changed a bit since she'd last seen him. There were whispers that he'd rediscovered the immortality of their ancestors. But if that were true, then why wouldn't he have shared that knowledge? He would have had the power to help all of their people. No, something more was going on and she was starting to have a suspicion based on something Sarel had said. But before she could voice something so horrendous, she had to know why. "Have any of the hunters become werewolves?"

"It is said that one or two have turned already, though the keeper denies it. The rest will either die or turn unless…unless a cure is found in time."

Lyrica rose from the bench. "Then we will do what we can to find a cure. Dareth shiral, lethalin."

"Dareth shiral, lethalan."

She still wanted to speak to Lanaya before heading into the forest to see if she could uncover anything more about her suspicions. She considered seeking out Dyani and questioning her, but if she was heavy with child, she did not want to put her old friend under more stress. She would, however, talk to her before she left to return the king's main camp.

-BREAK TWO-

The second's face was as unfamiliar as her name. "Andaran atish'an, Lanaya. I do not recall seeing you at the last gathering."

"It is good to meet you, Lyrica. And no…no, you would not have seen me at the last gathering. I was…new to the clan and was far too shy to mingle with the others back then," she admitted. "I am told you were instrumental in bringing our Cammen and Gheyna back together."

Lyrica held up her hand. "I know what you are going to say. By tradition, Cammen is still da'len and the match is not appropriate. But the two are in love and in love they will find strength and that strength will give them the edge they need to overcome any challenges that they face."

Lanaya blinked. "You have…a way with words. It is not tradition, but nor can I deny what you have said." Perhaps, she did not know as much as she thought she did. Tradition was good, but nothing should be clung to blindly.

She inclined her head to the second. "Zathrian said he did not have time to talk with me much and that I should seek you out if I wanted to know more. Can you tell me more about Zathrian?"

"I can. He has been keeper of the Saoirse Clan for a very long time. He is also a very good man who has lost much. The dalish are _everything_ to him and he would do _anything_ to protect them," she told her.

Lost much? "Can you tell me what Zathrian has lost?"

She could, but should she? Lyrica was one of the people, so it certainly couldn't hurt anything. "He…lost his family. A very long time ago. I don't know the story, but I understand the circumstances were horrific."

"I can understand that. Horrific times are upon us again and it would seem that many have lost someone to horrific circumstances," Lyrica said quietly.

That is true. And Lyrica had lost someone dear to her heart too. "Yes. Ir abelas, lethalan. I heard what happened to Tamlen. I never had the chance to meet him, but the clan has always talked about those that have gone on to join other clans. He is remembered fondly."

Coming here was turning out more difficult that she'd imagined. Tamlen had not been here since he was a da'len, but still…he was everywhere. "Ma serannas, Lanaya. It is kind of you to say that. You mentioned you were new to the clan at the last gathering. Did you come from another clan?"

This was always the awkward part. "Ah…no. I was born amongst the humans. I came to the Dalish at a very young age, but I've always retained my curiosity about the world I came from."

She tilted her head. "If you do not mind me asking, how did you get from the humans to the Dalish?"

"My parents were servants to a human merchant whose caravans plied the southern routes. One day, bandits killed him and my parents both. I was the only survivor, just a young girl, and the bandits took me. I was their…servant…for several years."

"Ir abelas, Lethalan. My father was killed and my mother injured by humans and their elven servants, but I never faced what you did. My mother made it back to the clan to birth me before she ran off to die. What happened to you was far worse. That must have been terrible."

She was glad she was not attacked by her own. Their stories were different but similar. So much tragedy - So much death. "It was, though long years of reflection have allowed me to come to terms with it. I can only imagine what would have happened had the clan not saved me from them. I owe them my life for that. And more."

"They would never see it that way, Lanaya. You are a productive member of the clan – you owe them nothing. But…how did the clan save you from them?

The bandits killed a scout when the clan passed near their camp. When the clan discovered him, Zathrian came looking for his killers. He followed their tracks for almost a month. And when he finally caught up to us, he fell on the bandits like a terror. No one could stop him. I sat there and watching attack them in a blur, and I reveled in every blow. When he saw me the fury in his eyes turned to pity. He took me back to the clan and I have been here ever since."

"Did you have no other family that would have mourned your loss?" Lyrica asked softly.

She shrugged. "It's possible I might have had some. Maybe many. Zathrian offered to take me back, but I had no idea where I was from and I wanted to stay with the man who rescued me. The clan is my family. Any others out there…it's best they believe that little girl died with her parents. For now, the clan is all I need. My old world could not have offered me all this and knowledge of a keeper, as well. Perhaps, one day, when I am keeper, I might inquire out of curiosity. I am not sure what lies down that road except pain, however."

"Pain, perhaps, but likely only because you would not like to see your family living in an alienage or being trod upon by the shemlen, but there is also a great propensity for love to flourish. You may be all they have left of a cherished brother or sister. Do not wait overlong, Lanaya, because time waits for no one. Zathrian may yet be keeper for a great many more years. Dyani, as his first, will be keeper next. When the blight has been ended and if you are willing, I will help you find your family."

Lanaya nodded. "There is great wisdom in your words and perhaps I will take you up on your offer. You would have made a good keeper if…"

She grinned. "If I had more magic?"

"More? Do you have magic?" she asked curiously.

She frowned slightly as she bit her lip. "I prefer to call it a _gift_ , rather than magic. I have an affinity with animals. I understand their thoughts and feelings and they understand mine. It is as if I…speak their language. But I have never picked up a staff, nor have I uttered a spell and I intend to keep it that way. I prefer to be a hunter, I always have."

"That is a remarkable…gift. Ma serannas, for sharing that with me. Dyani has talked of you a lot, but she never spoke of you being a mage. She is very protective of you. She loves you a great deal."

Lyrica's lips curved into a smile. "We were the closest of friends as children. We did everything together from the time that we could crawl. She will always be the sister of my heart. It was hard to watch her leave when she left with Zathrian. Let her know, if you will, that I will come see her after all of this is settled."

-BREAK TWO-

She nodded. "Of course. She is suffering a great deal of discomfort right now. I think see you would ease her in more ways than one. There is…something I would like to ask you. Since you have left your clan to become a Grey Warden. You have seen far more than I have ever seen. I hear human cities are very large; thousands upon thousands of souls all packed together in their houses. Is that true?"

"In some places. But it is usually the less fortunate that are packed together. The rich live in places so grand they could never hope to use all the space they have. But none of them can imagine how we live either."

Lanaya laughed and shook her head. "Really? I never thought of it like that. They truly couldn't imagine this kind of freedom? How…odd. I try to imagine those of our people living in such a place, surrounded by walls of stone and indifference. It…is a difficult thought."

"To them, we are the oddity. Wanderers with no home to call our own. No gardens or fields to grow food. No place to set down…roots. Many of our city brethren see us as arrogant savages who care nothing about them. And I agree - many of us do look down on them. We are one people, torn asunder. This divide needs to end; both sides are suffering because of it. How can we expect the other races to respect us when we cannot even respect our own? We will never be whole until we are once again one people and I hope I'm alive to see the day that happens."

"I – I had no idea they saw us in that way. It is said that one day we will have a land of our own. If that is so, perhaps the divide between the people can be mended."

"Many changes will be coming to Ferelden once King Kael and Queen Lorianna ascend to the throne," Lyrica told her. "Kael is of the Theirin bloodline, Maric's son, and they will soon be calling a Landsmeet to claim the throne. If they are successful, much will change."

Lanaya arched a brow. "You have that much faith in these shemlen?"

She nodded. "I do. I have met few people as fine as them. And I will do whatever I can to help them succeed. We all need them. Ferelden needs them."

Those were telling words. "How did you even meet them?"

"We met at Ostagar, during the battle. We," she said, motioning to her friends, "are part of a much larger group led by the king and queen. And they are backed by some powerful families. Every last one of us will fight to take down the traitors to the crown. Even Queen Anora will stand at our side against her father. With luck, the Landsmeet will just be a formality. But we will see."

That was a lot to take in. But if there could ever be a better future for their people…it was almost too much to dare to hope for. "It is almost too much to hope that things will be different for our people. But I have no doubt that once the curse is lifted, we will stand at your side and fight for that future."

"I am hoping it will not come to that – at least not to take the throne. But that must be done so that we can unite Ferelden under one banner to face the darkspawn, otherwise we stand no chance of defeating the blight. Civil war is tearing Ferelden apart. Soon, there will be no one left to battle the darkspawn. So very much rides on this."

"That is a terrifying thought. We will do our part once the curse is lifted. If I may – I have one more question, though I'm not sure you can answer it. Do the humans…ever regret…what they did to us?"

"I might be able to answer this better," Berchan cut in. "For one, _we_ did not do this to you. Our ancestors were guilty of those crimes not us. Many of us have become complacent with how things are. That is _our_ crime. There is cruelty and bigots among all the races; no race is free of it. We are _all_ guilty of that crime. But there are also humans who treat everyone with dignity, regardless of race or what have you. My father is the Arl of Western Hills and all of our staff are treated the same, paid the same, given the same benefits. It is much the same in Highever. Do I regret what my ancestors did to the elves? No. It is not my crime, nor is it my guilt. But I am ashamed of what they did. And I do what I can to make up for the injustice. Just as Kael and Lor will do what they can to make up for it."

Lanaya was stunned by what she'd heard. "That –that is not what I expected to hear. Perhaps there is a chance for a better future for us all. Ferelden is not Thedas, but it would be start…if what you say comes to pass. I will speak your words to others so that we all know what is at stake and what is worth fighting for."

Lyrica inclined her head. "It has been nice getting to know you, Lanaya. Dareth shiral."

"Dareth shiral, lethalan. Creators protect you."

They didn't get very far when a young boy ran up to them.

"Garas," the child said as he waved his hand. "Ilora wished to speak with you before you leave."

She smiled at the little boy. "Aneth ara, de'lan," she said, gently reminding him of his manners.

He could feel the heat sting his cheeks. "Abelas. Aneth ara."

She held out her hand to the small boy. "Lead the way, da'len," she said when he took her hand. He released her hand and ran off to play once he'd taken her to the clan's master herder.

Ilora rose to greet the dalish Warden. "Aneth ara. Ma serannas for coming, lethalan."

Lyrica could feel the animal's unease. "Aneth ara, Ilora. I can see why you wished to see me. Something is bothering her. It is why you separated her from the herd?"

"Yes. I fear she may have been bitten during the werewolf attack. I have tried speaking with her but she is too agitated for me to understand. When I heard of you being here…I had hoped…"

She smiled at the woman. "Of course, I will help her." She lowered herself in front of the halla and looked into her eyes. She raised her hand and settled it against the hallas' neck. There was a golden glow from the contact. "Be calm, my sweet. I am ready to listen. Tell me what is bothering you." Pictures flooded into her mind and she was able to see the attack. "But the attack is over. What is causing you distress?" Other pictures now came to her. "So that is what you fear. Be brave. If the worst shall come to pass, then we will mourn with you and we will grow stronger together for it."

Lyrica patted the halla's neck and rose to face Ilora. "She is not ill. It was her life-mate that was bitten on the leg during the attack and she fears for him."

Ilora frowned, her heart heavy. "I did not realize another halla was injured. This will allow me to prevent the sickness from spreading to the entire herd. Ma serannas. You have done me a great boon this day. I will always be grateful for your help."

"I'm glad I was here. Dareth shiral, Ilora."

Berchan placed a hand on her shoulder as they walked away. "That was a remarkable thing you did. I always wondered why you spent so much time talking to the horses. I understood your words when you spoke of your _gift_ , but seeing you use it and knowing what you were doing…it all makes sense now."

She looked up at him. "So you are okay with it…and what it implies?"

His brow rose. "That you are a mage? You know what my sister can do. My mother, brother and sister are also… _gifted_. I grew up around it. Why would you think I would be bothered about you being a mage?"

"Because they have no connection to the fade…to being possessed," she said drolly.

"Mages _do_ have easier access to demons, but demons can possess anyone who is willing to let them in. I don't imagine most mages would want to lose who they were to a demon. I think the chantry uses that as an excuse to vilify them and keep them under control because they fear them. But that very fear and oppression is what leads the weak to blood magic and dealing with demons. But the chantry is too blind to see the truth," he told her.

Bethany clapped her hands. "I wish everyone saw as clearly as you do."

"Maybe one day they will. I was lucky enough to have been raised among the…unusual. So I learned not to fear it out of hand. Would that more people had that chance. Then ignorance would not play into their fears."

They returned to the scout Mithra and asked if they would be willing to care for their horses and keep them safe in their absence. Once that was agreed to they moved out of the camp clearing and into the forest. They did not have to go very far when the first attack occurred. Three werewolves and several wolves descended upon them. She called on one of the wolves to help them. She also managed to touch a werewolf that had its back turned to her. The pictures showed that it only sought to make them leave the forest…to protect some spirit lady from them. When it spun around to look at her, she assured it that she did not wish to harm anyone; she simply wanted to find a way to cure the werewolves of their plague.

"I do not wish to fight. I do not wish for anyone to die. If your spirit knows how to break the curse, then ask her to parlay with me."

"We do not trust you. Dalish only seek to harm us," it told her.

"Please ask your brothers to stop fighting for a moment." When it did, they all turned to look at her. She could see the distrust in their eyes. "My clan has been to this forest in the past and you have left us alone. Yet you attack the clan that is here now. So, it is not all dalish you hate."

"We hate those that have tormented us, dalish," it informed her. "You seek to kill Witherfang. We won't let you."

"Don't talk to her!" another growled.

"She means us no harm, but will fight if attacked to defend herself," it explained to its brother.

"She lies!"

"No, she doesn't. I saw the truth. She showed it to me. Show them the truth as you did me, dalish."

"My name is Lyrica. I only came here to because of the blight. The blight must be stopped or it will kill us all. The dalish signed a treaty with the Grey Wardens to fight in the next blight. But they cannot do so with so many that have fallen ill. So, yes. I need to help them…but I wish to help you as well. There has to be a way to stop the curse. No one should have to live like this. I simply ask you to ask your spirit if there is another way besides what Zathrian has suggested. If you wish to see the truth of my words, then show that you are courageous…give me your hands," she said as she held out her hands to the other two werewolves.

"Do it, cowards. You can see that I am myself and have suffered nothing from her touch," the leader told them.

They took her hands and she showed them what had happened at Ostagar, showed them the discovery of the treaties and pushed upon them her desire for peace and to end the curse. Her hands fell away. "I do not want to fight. No one needs to die. There has been too much death. With the blight on our doorstep we need to all stop fighting each other. I am only seeking a cure. If your spirit knows of one, I _will_ listen."

"Tarrell, go to the Lady and let her know that the d – that Lyrica wishes to parlay with her about a cure. Ninia and I will remain with them to see that they stay out of trouble." When Tarrell departed he turned to the small dalish. "I am Naton. Or I used to be and she is Ninia. We want to go home. But we cannot as…monsters. The curse has put a rage within us that only the Lady has been able to quell. Without her we would be lost to the curse."

"So you seek to protect her and Witherfang. The story I was told was that a spirit bound to a wolf long ago. I can assume then, that this spirit is also Witherfang? If so, then I also assume that the spirit would wish to parlay with us rather than risking harm to come to those she cares about."

"You see well for a dalish," Ninia growled.

She inclined her head. "I am more than what I look like – just as you are. Do you know how this curse began? Perhaps that is the key to ending it."

Naton shook his head. "I do not know. The Lady would, mayhap Swiftrunner – but I do not know."

"Okay. Please come with us, there are things we need to do in the forest before we parlay."

"The forest holds more dangers to you than just us. We will follow you. Your presence is calming, as is the Lady's. What is it you seek in the forest?" Naton asked.

"We are looking for missing hunters, ironbark and a woman named Danyla – who might have become a werewolf."

Ah…the elven werewolf. Her transformation had not gone well. "I know of this woman you are looking for. She is not well. We will take you to her."

They followed Naton through the forest. When they passed a cave a great bear charged them. She stepped in front of the others and held her hand out towards the enraged bear.

"Surely, you do not think I will allow the bear close enough for you to touch it?" Berchan growled, his shield at the ready, his sword ready to swing.

"I do not need to touch it. It is only faster if I do." The bear slowed to a stop and hopped back and forth on its front feet. Its mouth opened and it roared at her, but did not advance. "We mean you no harm; we are only passing by your home. There is no need to fight. You need your strength – do not risk it on us. There is no need."

The bear nodded its massive head and turned back around to return to the darkness and sleep.

"All paths do not have to lead to the same destination," she said with a grin, repeating Kadar's words.

"You are wise and have a great power to sooth the savage beast. My Lady holds that same power. You have earned my respect," Naton informed her. "I don't know if I trust you, but I do respect you."

She looked from the black female werewolf to the blonde male. "Thank you, Naton. Trust and respect must be earned or it has no meaning."

The continued following him. Three more werewolves loped towards them as they began to cross a small, wooden bridge. The leader had a light golden brown pelt. The other two were shades of brown.

"The watch-wolves have spoken truly, my brothers and sisters. Two of our own travel with the dalish who comes to put us in our place, come to make us pay for our attack."

Naton stepped forward. "That is not so, Swiftrunner. Lyrica is not here for revenge. She wishes only to parlay with the Lady."

"Lies!" Swiftrunner growled. "How could you have fallen for her lies, brother?"

Naton gave a shake of his head. "They are not lies. We saw the truth in her memories. They are here for two reasons only. They seek aid in the fight against the blight, before it consumes us all, and she comes seeking a cure for the curse for all of us."

Swiftrunner growled. "The dalish so not want to talk – Zathrian wants only our destruction!"

She shook her head and squared her shoulders. "I am not of Zathrian's clan. And fighting amongst ourselves leads to less people to fight the blight. I do not want that. That is a fool's errand and I am no fool. I do not wish to fight you. I wish to help. But I cannot do that if you are not willing to listen. Let me show you what I showed your brother and sister, so that you may know the truth of my words."

When she held out her hands, he lowered his head and snarled at her. "Your words have merit. I do not wish to fight you either. But neither can I trust you. Come brothers and sisters, let us retreat. The forest has eyes of its own and it will deal with intruders as it always has." He looked at Naton and Ninia.

"I am sorry, brother," Ninia told him. "But we will not go with you. We know the truth you refuse to hear. Speak with the Lady. I am sure she would wish to parlay with the d – Lyrica."

Swiftrunner growled his displeasure. "Fools!" he snarled and disappeared back into the forest with the two he came with.

"I was hoping he'd see reason, but he's always been the oldest and most stubborn of us. Come, we will continue," Naton said with a scratch behind his ear. "Cursed fleas," he grumbled. "I cannot wait for the damned curse to be lifted."

They passed a waterfall to the east. The forest could be as beautiful as it was deadly.

"Wait!" Naton came to a stop and tilted his head, listening for what he thought he'd heard. "This way," he said and continued south. "There!" he pointed to an elven hunter that lay moaning on the ground.

She and Bethany hurried over to the injured man and knelt down next to him. "Aneth ara, lethalin. I am glad we have found you, hunter. I am Lyrica and this is Bethany."

He looked up at the two next to him. "You…are with…a…shemlen."

She touched his arm to soothe him. "Not all humans hate us, mir falon. Where were you injured?"

"We were hunting for Witherfang…attacked…by trees…" his world spun away and went dark.

"I can heal him," Bethany told her. She held her hand out towards the elf and chanted a healing spell, as if it were a mantra until his eyes opened once more.

Lyrica picked up a small figurine that appeared to be made of bone as the man awakened. It had fallen from his grasp when he fainted. "I believe this is yours," she said as she handed the figurine back to him.

"Ma serannas. It - it is lucky to me. It has kept me alive over the years." He looked from the elf to the human. "You have healed me."

"I am no mage," she said, feeling the heat creep into her cheeks. "It was Bethany that healed you, lethalin."

Gilmore stepped forward and helped the hunter rise to his feet.

"Ma sera – thank you," he told the human awkwardly. That was when he noticed the werewolves. He stumbled back in fear. "B- behind you…."

She could well understand his fear. "They are with us, hunter. They mean you no harm, right now. In fact, they are the ones that led me to you," she told them.

That news couldn't have shocked him more. "A…a werewolf helped me?" he shook his head. "That is…odd to hear. Er – you have my thanks." He turned his attention to Lyrica. "You have tamed them?"

"We are not dogs to be tamed, dalish! And I did not help you for your thanks. I did it for Lyrica. They wish to see the end of the curse, as do we. She has earned my respect and so we remain to aid her in lifting the curse," Naton growled out.

"I – yes…of course. But why would a werewolf help you kill Witherfang? That makes no sense, they are protecting the wolf," Deygan said with some confusion.

"Because I am not trying to kill Witherfang. I want to find another way to lift the curse. I am hoping the spirit this began with will know how to lift it. I seek to parlay with her. We sent another to speak with her and are awaiting her reply. Until then there were a few things I needed to do in the forest and one of those was to find the missing Saorise hunters. Are your hunter brothers alive?"

"No," he said with a somber shake of his head. "I was the only survivor. I am Deygan. I should get back to camp. I must tell them the fate of the others. Beware the sylvans."

"I will go with him, at least as far as I safely can, to see that he reaches the other dalish safely," Ninia said with chuff. "Then I will return."

Deygan's mouth opened and then shut tight, fear swamping him. "I – that's okay. I can make it back on my own."

"Do not be foolish, dalish," Ninia growled. "You would not survive the forest alone."

Lyrica placed a hand on the hunter's arm to calm him. "Go with her, Deygan. She knows what is at stake and will see you to safety."

His fear dissipated as if it were no more than smoke. "Of course. I can see the wisdom of your words. Ma serannas, for everything. Dareth shiral." He turned and followed the black werewolf.

-BREAK THREE-

She scrunched her nose in displeasure and sighed. "It is unfortunate more did not survive, but it is a relief to have found one of the hunters. Now I need only find the ironbark and Danyla. Oh – damn…and Aneirin, if we find him."

"Who is Aneirin?" Naton inquired.

"He is a lone elf that prefers solitude. He used to be a Circle mage; one of our friends, back at our camp, was also a Circle mage. She may know him and wish to know how he fares."

Naton nodded. "I have heard of this elf. He camps not far from the crazy one. Even we do not dare to cross the crazy one. He is a powerful mage that has killed many of my brothers and sisters. We have learned to keep our distance," he warned her.

"Thank you, Naton. We will be cautious," she agreed as they followed him deeper into the forest. There were times he stopped as if he was evaluating the region before deciding which path to follow. Perhaps, he was trying to avoid leading them through certain areas of danger. But he was their guide and she trusted him in the role. "Look! A campsite. It looks new. I wonder who it belonged to?"

Naton felt the wrongness. His ears flicked back and forth. "Do not linger here," he warned. "Something is not right."

She looked down at the wolf when it growled and nodded her agreement. Something was off about this place. "I know…I feel it too. I fear something bad has happened to the campers. There's a chest. Perhaps something was stored there that would explain who's camp this was. She knelt down in front of the chest and opened the lid. Inside were only two items. A ring and a pair of dalish gloves. She would return them to the clan to see if they were recognized. "It appears to have possibly been a dalish camp. Perhaps, this is where the hunters camped."

"We should leave now," Bethany warned.

"I agree completely," she said with a nod.

"Are you sure?" Gilmore asked with a yawn. "I could use a bit of rest."

Berchan stretched. "The man speaks sense."

She blinked. She felt lethargic too but that only increased the need to leave this place. "It is only mid day. And we have much left to do. And as Naton warned, it is not wise to tarry."

As they attempted to leave the camp a shade slipped out of the ground to attack them. She palmed her bow in a blink and let arrow after arrow fly, ever grateful for Sandal's replenishing rune. Bethany blasted it with immobilizing spells and the men hacked away at it. Between the five of them the shade gave up the ghost and sank back into the ground.

With its death the glamour was released and the campsite showed the truth behind the illusion. The tent was sagging and overgrown by vegetation, the fire was cold and bones and corpses in various stages of decomposition lay in a circle around the firepit.

Berchan frowned, his weariness gone as if it had never been. "It would appear we were meant to be dinner. To fall asleep and never awaken like these other poor bastards."

"Do you still want a nap, mountain man? I am sure there is room amongst the dead." she teased Berchan.

He grunted. "I suddenly have no desire for sleep. Let us leave this cursed place."

They continued around the bend to see a strangely formed, large tree. As they moved to skirt around it other trees stretched open their branches and advanced towards them.

Naton growled at the possessed trees. "Try to stay back from them! They can entrap you in their thorny roots!"

"Bethany! Do what you can. I'm afraid my arrows are less than useless against a tree, little more annoying than a mosquito." More trees came to life to attack them. "She can't do this on her own! There are too many. Go get them, boys! Focus on healing the men if they are entrapped. I have an idea." She pulled all of the arrows from her quiver and dropped all but one to the ground. She pulled out a poison that would instill nature damage, applied it thickly to the arrowhead and slid the arrow into her quiver. She pulled the bow off her shoulder and started firing the arrows at the trees, each one now tipped with the poison. So long as her arrows pierced the bark the poison would start weakening the trees.

Three times, one or more of the men were trapped in thorny roots. She could hear their grunts of pain and occasional whimper from the Naton, but there was nothing she could do for them. Bethany would have to keep them healed. Maybe it was time for her to learn healing spells. That, at least, did not require a staff.

When the trees were down she looked up at the gnarled, misshapen tree to see if it, too, would attack them. When its branches spread and it took a step towards them she gripped her bow tighter.

"Hmmm…what manner of beast be thee that comes before the elder tree?" it asked.

That was new. A possessed tree that wanted to talk to them. Certainly better than the alternative. "I am Lyrica, a dalish Grey Warden. I come with three humans and a werewolf."

"Two werewolves," Ninia said as she finally tracked them down.

"You do not wish to attack us?" she inquired cautiously.

"Ah, you speak of the others, how filled they are with hate? I apologize on their behalf, _they_ cannot control their fate." It raised a branch tipped with what appeared to be a clawed hand. "Allow me a moment to welcome thee. I am called the Grand Oak, sometimes the Elder Tree."

Bethany quirked a brow. "A tree that speaks in rhymes. I would have loved to have had one in my backyard as a child."

"And unless thou thinks it far too soon, might I ask of you a boon?" it asked.

She couldn't help but smile at the tree. It was refreshing compared to the other creatures of the forest. "I will grant you a boon, but might I ask you some questions first?"

It brought it's clawed branch to its chest. "Ask what thee will, yes. I am curious, I confess."

"How did you come to be?"

"I am an elder oak and nothing more, though once I dreamt of a time before, when I roamed the world and howled with pain, not of this world but twixt and twain. Perhaps I was a spirit then? A wandering thing drawn to this glen? But then that spirit joined with a tree; since then a tree is all I be."

"Then why are the other trees more hostile than thee?" She ignored the heat that flared in her cheeks.

"Of the sylvans, this is true; they are quite mad, their virtues few. A spirit trapped within a tree, no mouth to scream no eyes to see. A cage of bark, a prison wood, a thing of rage where nature stood. So twisted sylvan they become, but I am not the same as some. I accepted my fated oaken home, I feel no need to rage and roam."

She wondered if it had been around since the beginning. "Have you been here since the wars?"

"Wars you say? I cannot tell. I was not here when they befell. But many deaths here, all the same, and with the deaths the spirits came. The spirits entered corpse and tree and most went mad as thou canst see. The forest had a spirit of its own, from back when its first seeds were sown. Perhaps she died of grief that day, or perhaps she simply went away. Or perhaps the weres are the ones to blame. The day she left is the day they came."

She was having far more fun with this than she should have been having. She had learned something very valuable. The Lady is a spirit the werewolves protected. The Lady was also Witherfang. And now she suspected that the Lady was also the spirit of the forest, because she left when the werewolves came. Sarel had told her that Witherfang was as old and powerful as Zathrian. Somehow Zathrian, the wolf and the Lady were all tied together. And although she knew the answer to the next question, she would ask it anyway, perhaps learning something new. "Why do they call this the Brecilian Forest?"

"That is but a human name, one placed upon this land, their claim. A claim they stole from ancient elves, whom they first killed, and were killed themselves."

The elves lived here until the Tevinter wars. The Tevinters killed the elves and then the Avaar killed the Tevinters. She knew the Lady was Witherfang. She knew the forest's spirit left the day the werewolves came. She knew Witherfang created the werewolves and that the weres were loyal to the Lady and Witherfang. She also knew that Zathrian had lost his family to horrendous circumstances. And if Zathrian was as old as Witherfang, he likely lost his family to Tevinter invaders. But there was one piece of the puzzle still missing. What did Zathrian have to do with the Lady and Witherfang? Why did the lady join with the wolf? Did she sicken of all the death and the spirits that had entered her demesne and sought to leave the forest? Or did Zathrian have something to do with it? He was a mage. With blood magic he could have fused the spirit to the wolf, but if so, why? To avenge the deaths of his family? Possibly. But it was just as likely the Lady wanted to leave a forest overrun with enraged spirits.

"Where is the werewolf's lair?"

Naton growled. "We should wait for the Lady!"

The tree turned towards the voice of the were. "The Lady of the Forest is with thee? She is the spirit that once did flee." He turned back to where the elf's voice was. "In the center of the forest the weres do dwell, or so go the tales my fellows tell. But they cannot be followed there; the forest doth protect the weres."

So the Lady was the forest's spirit. It was she that protected the weres and commanded the forest. "Then how do we get to the center of the forest?"

"The lady would bid us entry. We cannot protect you from all our brethren, there are far too many," Naton warned.

"Perform the boon as I ask and I shall reward thee for thy task. I have but one desire, to resolve a matter very dire. As I slept one early morn, a thief did come to steal an acorn. All I have is my being, my seed. Without it I am alone, indeed. I cannot go and seek it out, yet I shall die if left without."

"Normally, I would help without favor owed, but I must soon reach the center's Hold. So I will find your stolen seed if you would help me with my need." She rubbed her flaming cheeks when the humans laughed at what she'd said.

"Go to the east to find this man. I shall await, do what thou can." He raised his branches and fell back into a slumber.

Naton growled softly. "I do not like this."

"Nor do I," Ninia agreed.

She placed her hand on the werewolf's arm to calm him. "I understand that. But we may not hear back from the Lady in time or she may disbelieve my intent is to do no harm. If that is the case, I must find another way to reach her. We cannot parlay if we do not meet," she reminded him.

"Fine," he grumbled. "Then I will take you east - just be prepared to charm the beast…" He shook his head and growled. "Damned oak tree."

They followed him in a north eastern direction; again he appeared to choose their path carefully, stopping every so often to inhale the scent on the breeze. They pulled up when he came to a stop.

"We are entering the eastern forest now. The paths are tight; there is little chance of skirting battles. Be prepared for anything," Naton warned them.

She placed her hand on the wolf's head and scratched behind his ears.

Naton looked at the gesture and then at Lyrica. "You are not thinking of doing that to me." It was not a question.

She grinned. "You might just like it," she teased. "He certainly has no objections."

His eyes narrowed but he hunched down. Her hands slid through his fur and he closed his eyes when her hands massaged his ears and then slipped behind them for a scratch. He blinked and shook his head when her hands stilled and moved away. "Damn me, that did feel nice." He glanced over at Ninia, whose lips were spread in a toothy smile and rose to his full height. "We will speak no more of this."

He led them down the narrow path, where the path ended in either going to the left or right; three sylvans opened their branches to attack them. But they knew the routine by now and they were getting pretty good at being fleet of foot when the ground began to tremble beneath them. They were only entrapped once this time, though Ninia had managed to dart far enough away to avoid being trapped with them. When the trees were down, they took the left. "This is where I lost saw our newest, sick, member."

As they drew closer, four werewolves charged them. Naton and Ninia stepped in front of the other, spread their claws and growled at their brethren. The four werewolves pulled to a stop.

Gunter scratched his chest. "What are you doing, brother? Step aside. We must protect the Lady!"

"We are escorting her to the Lady. She wishes to parlay to find a cure for us all," Naton explained.

"Lies! She is dalish, she seeks only our destruction," Gunter pointed out.

She stepped between Nator and Nilia, both of which refused to let her pass them. She glowed softly as she forced out waves of calming energy. "I am not Zathrian and I harbor no ill will towards you. If it is possible, I want to save you. Regardless whether you are elf or human, no one deserves this curse. I believe the Lady of the Forest may have the answers I seek. She will know how the curse came about and, I hope, how to end it."

"You will harm her," though it was obvious there was a lack of conviction in his voice.

"No. That is not my intent. We must stop killing each other when the blight is trying to kill us all. Do you wish to be devoured by the darkspawn? The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Only a fool fights an ally when the enemy is surrounding them."

"Your words are…wise, but we cannot trust you – you are dalish," Gunter said with a snarl.

"You seem a monster, but you are no mindless beast, you are more. I seem a dalish, but I, too, am more. I am a Grey Warden and we are here to save you and gain allies to battle the blight. Nothing more," she told him.

"She speaks the truth, brother. We have seen the proof of her memories. Return to the Lair; speak to Tarrell or the Lady. If you do not like their words, then you are welcome to hunt us. But know that should you choose to do so we will not stay our claws," Ninia warned with a chuff.

Gunter took a step backwards. "I will do as you say, sister. You may pass for now, until we know the Lady's wishes." He nodded to his brothers and turned to lope away.

"That went better than I'd hoped," Gilmore said as he wiped the sweat from his forehead.

Ninia pointed further up the path. "She is there."

Lyrica looked in the direction Ninia was pointing to see a werewolf down on one knee, its body shuddering. Her heart grew heavier with each step towards the downed were.

Danyla weakly lifted her head to see who approached her. "P-please…help…listen…I am not…the mindless beast I appear. They – I am cursed, turned into this creature. The curse, it…it burns in me! I…fled into the forest. The werewolves, they…took me in. But I had to return. I had to!"

"Danyla? Is that you?" she asked gently.

"You know of…me? Then listen. My husband…he is called Athras. Please, you must…bring him a message. The scarf I wear…bring it to him. Tell him I love him. Tell him...I am dead and with the…the gods. I beg you…"

"I've spoken with Athras. You are all he thinks about. He loves you and worries greatly for you," she admitted.

"I – I want him to be at peace… He is a good man. Please do not…let him suffer thinking of me." She growled when a wave of pain twisted inside of her. "The pain! The curse…is fire in my blood! Please! Ma halani! End it for me! End it quickly!" Danyla begged.

"No!" Bethany said louder than she'd intended. "I can heal you."

Pain coursed through her body like a live wire, like acid eating her from the inside out. She couldn't take it anymore. "Magic…will not work against…the curse! Ahh! You must…must end it!"

Bethany looked at Lyrica. "I can put her to sleep – she will not feel the pain."

Lyrica's brows rose. "Will you need to stay with her to maintain it? How long will it last?"

"I do not need to remain with her, but someone should to protect her from predators. And if I pour enough magic into the spell it could last the rest of the day." She turned to Danyla. "We are seeking out the Lady to find a way to end the curse. I do not want you to die if it can be lifted. I can put you to sleep so that you feel nothing. If we are not successful or do not return in time, we will aid you in your death then."

Ninia nodded and scratched her side. "I will stay with her and guard her while she sleeps. If she awakens before you return, I will give her the death she seeks."

Danyla lowered herself to the ground, her body shuddering and contorting with a pain that was an endless nightmare. Lyrica laid a hand against her shoulder to calm her while Bethany chanted a spell, drawing more power from the fade with each repetition. She continued for a few minutes after Danyla's body relaxed.

Bethany wiped her brow. "It is done. Now, we should hurry. Thank you, Ninia, for volunteering to watch over her."

"Regardless of anything else, she is a sister. Be quick," Ninia told them with a shooing motion of her claws.

Naton led them back the way they'd come and turned left, following the curving path. When a path opened to the left, Naton stopped and lifted his muzzle into the air. No," he shook his head. He could smell bears and the stench of ogres. There was nothing that way they wanted to face. He continued forward and came to another stop at the next path spoke. He nodded when he smelled the human scent of the crazy man. He loped towards the scent and then motioned the others forward ahead of him. They were the ones that needed to speak to the hermit. He would be nothing more than a monster to the man.

She looked around the clearing, it was a campsite of sorts, but it appeared to be empty.

"He is here," Naton growled.

She blinked at the flash of light and an old, bearded man appeared before her.

He looked around and shook his head, his hand rising to his forehead as if to block out the sight before him. "Oh dear, oh dear! What are the woods coming to? So many…odd beings here."

"Hello…there. I am looking for an acorn, did you happen to find one earlier today?" she asked as politely as she could. The man seemed unstable. She could see why they thought him mad. And the mad were, by their very nature, unpredictable.

"Mayhap I did and mayhap I didn't. Have you come to claim it back? Oh, what fun! But we are getting ahead of ourselves already. Ask a question and you'll get a question, but give an answer and you'll receive the same! Oh, I do so love to trade!"

"Be careful, Lyrica. I can sense the power in him," Bethany warned.

"No fair bringing a mage to a guessing game! Will you play by the rules or not?" the hermit demanded.

The statement was odd considering he, himself, was a mage. And that was a cycle she did not care to deal with. If she asked a question he would ask a question. That would not answer her question. And she could not make a statement because it would be an answer to a question he never asked. Maybe she was over-thinking the whole ordeal, but the less she had to deal with the man the safer it would be. So she decided to skip to the chase instead of chasing her tail in dialogue with him. "I would like to acquire your acorn."

"Ahhhhh….suddenly it all becomes clear. You're here, that talking tree there. It all makes sense now. As a matter of fact, yes, I do have that tree's acorn. I stole it and it was easy. Silly tree should have locked it up tighter. If you want it, you'll have to trade me for it. And nothing from that silly tree…no leaves or branches or anything. But that's all I have to say about that. An answer for an answer, there you go."

"Will you trade me for the acorn?" she asked.

"You? Why would I want you? Are you daft?" He gave a shrill laugh. "I do not need a pretty, little elf. What else do you have to trade? A question for a question, there you go."

That wasn't exactly what she'd meant. She looked down at the two rings on her fingers. One had been from Tamlen, the other from the keeper. Both were precious to her. With a soft release of breath she pulled the ring the keeper had given her off her finger. "Would you be willing to take this inscribed ring in exchange for the acorn?"

She cringed when he took the ring and bit down on it, before looking at the inscription and then settling it back onto her palm. She could see his saliva shining on the ring and just wanted to drop it and shake the yuck from her hand.

"Hmmm… "he said as he stroked his beard. "Well, I do have many fingers and it might be good for something. "Gimme that!" he said briskly as he grabbed the ring back and replaced it with the acorn. "There! Now that's done. What else have you got on your agenda, hmm? Are you here to spy on me?"

"Not at all. It was…interesting meeting you, but I should go," she said, trying to slip away from additional conversation.

"Oh, I see. You're going to report to them now, are you? Fine. Good bye!" he darted over to his chest and dropped something into it.

-BREAK FOUR-

Naton pointed further up the trail. "Up there – the other you seek."

The other? Oh – Aneirin. She took the lead with Berchan at her side. She could understand the Naton's reluctance to lead them at the moment. He was considered a monster…an enemy. She saw the mage rise at their approach.

"Give me a moment…I must…find a bush," Berchan told her.

A dalish. Then he would not have to warn her of the dangers of the forest. "Andaran atish'an. You are dalish, but not a face I know. I am Aneirin. I am surprised to see you with so many – werewolf!" He pulled his staff free.

She held her hand up quickly. "No! Naton is with us. He is our guide and …protector in the forest."

He settled the bottom of his staff on the ground, but was not comfortable enough to put it away. "You are dalish – yet it does not attack."

"He has no reason to attack me. We want the same thing. An end to the curse. It is something I hope to find for human and elf alike. No one should have to suffer under the curse," she explained.

He debated his actions and then chose to put up his staff. It would not be courteous for him be armed when the others were not. "It is not often I see humans and elves helping each other. I must admit I am surprised."

That was an odd thing to say. "Didn't you see humans and elves working together in the Circle?"

Aneirin shook his head. "I spent more time with myself than others. I did not really….fit in there." He looked from the dalish to the human mage.

"Ir abelas, Aneirin. I am Lyrica, and my friends are Bethany, Gilmore and Naton. Berchan is the man that a… will be right back."

His brows drew together. "Are you and Bethany from the Circle? Do you know Irving or…Wynne?" he asked cautiously. She had been a stern taskmaster at the time, but he'd made peace with his past long ago.

She shook her head. "Neither of us have been to the Circle and I'm not…I don't consider myself a mage. I walked a different path."

He tilted his head at her odd words. You cannot just decide you are not a mage. You either were one or you were not one. "Don't the templars sense your magic?"

Again, she shook her head. "No. But then I've only really spent any time around one and he never took his vows. As for magic…I don't use it. Or at least I do not speak any spells. I have an affinity with animals and that is all. But I did meet Wynne a few weeks ago. She was fine when I last saw her."

He nodded. It was unfortunate that people had to hide what they were to survive in a world that did not understand or want them. Most mages just wanted to live in peace and were denied that most basic right. At least, it _should_ be a right. "That is good to hear. She was my mentor…for a time. She taught me more than she knew."

She smiled at him. "If I see her again I will let her know you are well."

He inclined his head. "Ma serannas. I appreciate that. I couldn't help but notice the armor your men wear. They are Grey Wardens?"

"They are. I am. They just – er…lacked any armor that would fit me," she admitted with an easy laugh.

His eyes widened in surprise. That he had not expected to hear. "I am…stunned. A dalish Grey Warden. As far as I am aware there have been very, very few. It is good to see the dalish recognized for what they can do." He looked up at the giant human as he returned.

That was still an uncomfortable subject for her. She never wanted to a Grey Warden. She never wanted to leave her clan. She had wanted to marry Tamlen. She cared for the new people who had come into her life, but she still missed everything she'd lost. She would never be that woman again. "Ma serannas for talking with me, Aneirin. I must go; we have a curse to end. I hope to see you again sometime. Dareth shiral, falon."

He inclined his head, an appreciative grin on his face. "I will stay here until the clan leaves. May we meet again…soon, lethalan. Dareth shiral." His brow arched when he saw the very large human place an arm around her back as they walked away. Perhaps she was not free after all. If not, her choice was…disquieting.

Gilmore laughed at his friend. "What's the matter, Berchan? Staking your claim?" he teased.

Was he? "It's not…I…it's not like that." Or was it? He had not liked the look the elf had given her, that was true. No, it was more than that. Somehow, over the last few weeks, she'd slipped under his skin and into his heart and it had not been something he anticipated happening. He couldn't put his finger on any specific event that happened to change how he felt about her. It had been gradual and unnoticed. What made it all the more wrong was that she'd lost someone she loved and still mourned him. His feelings for her were irresponsible and foolish.

"Isn't it?" Naton asked gruffly as he blew a hard puff of breath out his nostrils to clear them of the scent. "Your pheromones say otherwise."

She felt like she'd blinked and missed part of the conversation. "What are we talking about? Have you found some land you want?" She knew humans claimed land, but that didn't seem to fit the conversation so she was at a loss.

"He's found something he wants," Gilmore said with a chuckle. He grunted when Bethany elbowed him.

"Don't push. He will be ready when he's ready," she admonished him.

Naton's lips curled up to bear his teeth. Had he been this dense as a human? "He's ready. Just take her as your mate and be done with this foolishness!"

The werewolf didn't know all the facts. He didn't know that Lyrica had lost someone she would have wed not so very long ago. "You don't know all the facts – let it go, Naton," Berchan warned.

That brought her to an abrupt stop. She turned and placed the flat of her hand against his chestplate. "You've been talking about me?"

His large hand engulfed hers. "It – it's nonsense. Don't worry about. They were just…teasing me and they crossed a line they should not have," he tried to explain.

Taking her as a mate would be nonsense, he'd said. She looked down at their hands and wondered why his words stung. A slow breath escaped her. "He's right. What you are thinking is nonsense. Humans don't see elves in that…um…kind of way. We are good for a tumble or for doing menial tasks they do not wish to do, but little else. It is just the way of life. He is a friend and a…a lover – and that's all he'll ever be." Right now he was a port in the storm, but she knew she wouldn't be able to keep that up for much longer. She wasn't the type of woman for casual relationships and she could not afford to risk her heart on a human. That would only lead to heartbreak and she'd had enough of that already.

Naton's lips curled back to show his teeth. "I am – was a human and I married an elf," he bit out, offended by her words.

"Were you a noble man?" she asked curiously. Not that it would have mattered much. There was a divide, regardless of status, but she suspected the divide would be wider when it came to nobility. Though, in truth, it was just a guess. She knew little of human nobility outside of the basics that her clan knew and what she'd been able to glean from the others in their main camp.

He scratched behind his ear and shook his head. "I was a merchant. But if being a nobleman meant I could not have my wife then I am glad that I am not one. I have no wish to be bound by such foolish dogma and I would not have let myself be a prisoner to bigotry. I want nothing more than to return to my wife a man and not a monster."

She nodded and stepped away from Berchan to follow Naton to the barrier that led to the center of the forest. "That is what I want for you too. It was a brave thing you both did in the name of love. Most would have buckled under the pressure."

He nodded. "We were made to feel unwelcome in the alienage at first, but we are tolerated well enough now. People were more willing to ignore their biases when they are in need of our supplies. But we would never have let that stop us. Love is worth fighting for, so I have little tolerance for games."

Berchan followed at her side, silently digesting her words. While her words were true for most humans they were not true for him. He did not believe that elves were only good for a tumble or menial tasks. And there were mixed marriages in the Western Hills Arling. None in his family, but he knew his mother wouldn't think twice about it. His father, while a progressive man due to his wife's influence, might not be so accepting if he married an elf, but he had little doubt his mother could -… He inhaled sharply at the direction his thoughts had taken him. He needed to pull back the reins. One step at a time, Berchan.

He took her hand. "You are wrong," he stated quietly. "If we ever had something more than… _this_ , I would not be adverse to it. But you are grieving…regardless, I'll be there for you in any way you have need of me."

She stopped and looked up at him with startled eyes. "I-" she looked around at the others. "We'll talk about this later."

Maybe he should have kept his feelings to himself. He did not want to push her away. He forced a smile and nodded. Maker help him, he hoped he had not damaged what they had.

Outside of some light banter, the trip back to the Elder Tree was pretty quiet. As she approached the tree its branches spread.

"Greetings to thee, once again. Hast thou found my acorn, then?"

She struggled to get the larger than normal acorn out of her pocket. After a handful of grunts and tugs, the acorn slipped free from its prison and she held it out to the Elder Tree. "I do believe this is yours?"

He gently plucked the acorn from her palm. "My joy soars to new heights, indeed! I am reunited with my seed! As I promised, here it be. I hope its magic pleases thee. Keep this branch of mine with thee and pass throughout the forest free."

She took the branch he offered and shuddered at the feel of the power that coursed through it. She didn't want to touch the staff. It connected to something deep inside of her and it was not a connection she wanted. She inclined her head. "Thank you, wise and ancient tree."

"I wish thee well, my mortal friend. Thou brought my sadness to an end. May the sunlight find you, thy days be long, they winters kind and thy roots be strong." It nestled its acorn tight within its branches and fell into a slumber.

"Are you okay?" Berchan asked quietly. He could see her struggle but did not understand it.

She squared her shoulder and nodded. It felt like bugs crawling under her skin. Her dormant power awakening to the staff in her hand. She wanted to give it to someone else to hold. But she was their leader and she would not falter. This was her burden to bear. "I will be," she said with a nod. Since she had no strap to hold the staff in place on her back she used in the fashion of a walking stick. "Let us get to that barrier."

As Naton led them back through the forest, Berchan's gaze kept returning to Lyrica. He knew something was wrong. He could see it in the stiffness of her body…in the pained look on her face, but he also knew she would only tell him when she was ready to.

She came to a halt when something, that felt almost like a shadow crawled over her skin. That wasn't exactly right, but it was the best description she could give it.

The were shook his head. He smelled the dark things too. "We must go," Naton said in warning. "What you sense is a plague that cannot be cured here. To give it time may cost more lives. Come this way," he said to lead them around the encounter.

She gripped the staff harder, her head bent down as she fought the power that surged through her. Her body shuddered and sweat dripped from her brow, but she couldn't stop what was happening. Her cry was piercing when the magic erupted over her body, enveloping it in a crackling blue glow.

Bethany rushed over to her. "No one touch her! Do not hold it in, Lyrica, it will tear you apart. You must give it a path!" She spoke the words to a healing spell. "Now, repeat what I told you and it will heal rather than destroy."

She swore she would utter no spells, but they pain was only intensifying. She murmured the words Bethany had given her over and over until the pain ebbed away along with the burst of encapsulating magic. She had failed twice over. Once in containing it and yet again with the oath she'd spoken many years ago to never use magic.

Berchan took the stick from her hand, handed it over to Bethany and pulled Lyrica into his arms as soon as it was safe to do so. He frowned when she remained stiff. "There is no shame in losing a battle to something stronger. Some battles are won, some are lost. But this battle was not one you had to face. Any one of us would have been willing to hold the stick, but you refused to tell us there was a problem."

She gripped the side of his chestplate. "Because I was determined to beat it. But I failed."

Bethany laid a hand on her arm and rubbed it gently. "You were fighting a battle you never learned the rules to. No one could have won in that situation. I know you don't want to use magic. But you need to learn how to control it. This time only you were hurt, but next time it could be someone you care about or a child."

Her hand fell from Berchan's armor. "I know," she murmured quietly. "I want to say that I simply won't handle any more staves and that will solve everything, but it won't. I can still feel it inside of me like a coiled snake." She shuddered. "I don't like the feeling – I want it to go back to sleep. I don't – I don't want to be a danger to anyone else." She lifted dejected golden sea-green eyes up to meet Bethany's bright blue eyes. "I won't carry a staff or become…become a mage, but if you will help me, I'll learn how to control it." Her gaze hardened. "Because I refuse to let anything control me."

Bethany smiled and nodded, brushing the smaller elven woman's light brown hair from her cheek. "Of course I will. We'll start on our journey back to the main camp."

She blinked, stepped away from Berchan and Bethany and drew her bow. "Their coming."

"I feel it too," Gilmore agreed as he pulled his sword and shield.

"Who's coming?" Berchan asked, pulling his own weapons. That's when he saw the first of the darkspawn heading towards them. "Well, shit." He hoped he'd start feeling them soon. Better than being caught with his pants down.

"I thought we'd be able to skirt around them, but they found us anyway," Naton growled as he charged towards the arrivals with a howl of rage.

"Don't bite it!" she yelled as she shot arrows into any exposed place she could find, namely neck, eyes and mouths. They weren't the easiest to hit, but she was damned good judging arrow trajectory variables. And unless they were too far away or just got damned lucky, most of the hits were fatal. Of course, these kinds of shots were strictly limited to darkspawn or demons. Other beings would always have the chance to surrender.

She noticed Bethany was using the staff from the Elder Tree. That made sense since she had to carry it. The strap the held her dual silver ball tipped staff had only room for one such weapon. She still swung it if anything got too close. It was a slight deterrent, but it didn't do the same kind of damage as the silver balls could do.

When an ogre charged out of nowhere and knocked Berchan aside, she aimed carefully and loosed her arrow. It sank into his eye, but not deep enough to reach his brain. She grimaced when he yanked it out, taking the eye with it. He roared and charged her. Come on…come on you stupid beast. Let me see the other one.

Something slammed her in the side, knocking her over and lunged towards the ogre. She followed through with the roll and sprang back up in time to take a shot from the side, distracting the ogre from the wolf that knocked her out of its path. The arrow sank deep this time and the ogre stood, wavering on its feet for a moment. Naton charged the ogre, twisted his body when he sprang and used his feet to rebound off the ogre's chest. That was all it took to cause it fall backwards. The weight of the ogre's landing shook the ground beneath their feet, but it also spelled the end of the battle.

She looked at the were's muzzle, but it was free of blood. Her wolf's, however, was not. At least the kennel master at Ostagar had showed her how to cure the wolf if it grew sick.

"The stick is humming," Bethany remarked as the approached the barrier. She moved to the front of the group and crossed the barrier first. They weren't sure what would happen. It was suspected that they would have to hold hands so that everyone could benefit from the stick, but that was not the case at all. The barrier dissipated as she walked through it. "Well, that was easier than expected."

Lyrica took over the lead once more. As the moved towards the ruins four werewolves loped out to confront them, Swiftrunner at their lead.

"The forest has not been vigilant enough. Still you come," he growled. His eyes narrowed at the sight of Naton. "And still you follow the dalish."

Naton's lips curled. "And still you are an ass. I follow because I believe in her. I seek an end to this curse, just as she does. The Lady will want to talk to her. Let us pass or we will go through you," he snarled.

Swiftrunner hunched forward and bared his teeth. "Leave this place!"

She glared at the brown were. "I will not! Too much lies on ending this curse. I will speak to the Lady, Swiftrunner. I don't want to fight you, but nor will I leave. Take me to her so that we may talk."

He growled when the large human stepped up beside her. "You are dalish! The only thing you want is to kill Witherfang! I will not stand by and allow that to happen! Here Witherfang protects us. Here we learn our names and are beloved. We will defend Witherfang and this place with our lives!"

"Then you would be throwing your lives away for nothing! I didn't come here to fight! I came here to talk – to free you of the curse! Stand down, Swiftrunner. No blood needs to be spilled this day. Has the Lady refused to parley?"

"Swiftrunner, you know what the Lady wants…" warned one of the weres with him.

"No!" he snarled at the were. "I will not risk her life. I do not trust the dalish!" He opened his claws and growled at the intruders. He took a step back when a large, white wolf with vines veining its legs jumped down between the two groups.

Witherfang looked up at Swiftrunner and shook his head. He turned to face the others. He studied the group, surprised to see one of their own with them. He nodded his head and then jerked his head towards the ruins, before bounding away.

Swiftrunner gnashed his teeth. "Follow me. But if you do anything to hurt the Lady, I will kill you," he warned. He led them through the stone pillars and into the ruins. He took them down the stairs and turned right at the great hall to proceed down another group of stairs to a door. There was a loud sliding click he opened the door and led the group into the chamber.

-BREAK FIVE-

Werewolves lined either side, growling as they were escorted between them. Sylvan trees were also scattered about, but as of yet none attacked. Swiftrunner turned as he walked up onto a raised, circular platform, to face the intruders. When a naked, greenish woman with vines veining up her limbs appeared from nowhere, the weres started snarling more savagely. She touched Swiftrunner, who was by the far the most vocal and aggressive and her touch soothed the beast within. He knelt down next to her. The other weres followed suit, even Naton, who had been standing protectively next to Lyrica.

"I bid you welcome, mortal. I am the Lady of the Forest."

Lyrica inclined her head to the Lady. "Thank you for agreeing to speak with me. And thank you for preventing Swiftrunner from attacking us. I had no wish to fight him. I only wish to lift the curse."

"Do not listen to her, Lady! She will betray you! We must attack her now!" Swiftrunner snarled.

"Hush, Swiftrunner. Your urge for battle will only see the death of the very ones you want to protect. Is that what you want?" the Lady asked softly.

He lowered his head. "No, my lady. Anything but that."

"Then the time has come to speak to this outsider, to set our rage aside." She turned to look at the intruders. "I apologize on Swiftrunner's behalf. He struggles with his nature."

She gave a slight nod; it was something she knew all too well. "I fear that is trait that most share, though not usually to such a degree."

"And so it is." She tilted her head. "You are attuned to nature. I feel its heartbeat in you. Is that how you soothed Naton?"

She inclined her head. "Yes, Lady. It is a gift that I was born with. I hear the whispers of the trees on the winds. I hear the contented sighs of the blooms as their petals reach out for the warmth of the sun. I feel the pain and joy of the life around me and I do what I can to ease it."

"That is more than I expected from a mortal. I have become what you have always been. We are not so different, you and I," the Lady said thoughtfully.

Naton rose to his feet. "With her touch, I saw the truth," he admitted. "She showed me pictures…memories of what had happened and I knew I had to help her reach you, my Lady."

She looked from Naton to the dalish. "I find myself intrigued. Would you share these truths with me?"

She shook her head with a grimace. "I would do so, but it requires physical contact and I doubt that Swiftrunner would allow me to touch you, Lady. And…were I to establish such a connection, I would have access to your memories as well," she warned.

"I would welcome your touch and the sharing of memories. There are things Zathrian has not told you." When Swiftrunner snarled, she ran her long; branch-like fingers through his course fur to sooth him.

Lyrica chewed on her lower lip for a moment and then gave a slight nod. "I have put most of the pieces together already. But I would welcome seeing the truth of what I believe. If I may approach you."

"Of course," the Lady responded, holding her arms towards the dalish.

She moved forward and lifted a hand to settle it on the spirit's shoulder. She showed her the treaties they'd found, the war against the blight at Ostagar and the betrayal. She showed her the group that would stand against the blight. She then showed her the suffering of the elves and how Danyla awaited to be healed with Ninia watching over her. She showed her the darkspawn that had breached her forest.

In return she saw the spirit ripped from the womb of the forest and forced into a white wolf for the sake of revenge. It was turned upon the humans. And when it broke free from Zathrian's control, the rage and pain overwhelmed it. Eventually it mastered its rage and when the weres its rage had created sought it out, it soothed them well. It finally knew love and family. Now, it only sought release to return that which it once was.

Lyrica released a heavy breath and took a step away. "It was as I suspected. The curse originated with Zathrian."

"It did. There were things I could not show you, because I did not see them with eyes as you do. Centuries ago, when the dalish first came to this land, a tribe of humans lived close to the forest. They sought to drive the dalish away. Zathrian was a young man then. He had a son and daughter he loved greatly and while out hunting the human tribe captured them both."

Swiftrunner growled. "The humans…tortured the boy, killed him. The girl they raped and left for dead. The dalish found her, but she learned later she was…with child. She…killed herself."

There was no way to know if those humans were an ancient Tevinter tribe or some other tribe. She was curious, but it held no relevance to the story. "What they did was atrocious. They deserved death. But you did not deserve what happened to you. What Zathrian did was wrong, despite his grief."

"I've grown past the hate I once had for him. Through his actions I learned much about life, but that knowledge came at a great expense," the Lady said as she ran her wooden fingers through Swiftrunner's thick, brown hair.

Swiftrunner once again knelt in front of his Lady. "I was lost until I found you, my Lady."

"I showed Swiftrunner that there was another side to his bestial nature. I soothed his rage and his humanity emerged. He then brought others to me."

"So you tried to force a confrontation with Zathrian?" Lyrica asked, having seen that the spirit sought release.

The Lady inclined her head. "Word was sent to Zathrian every time his landships passed this way, asking him to come, but he has always ignored us. We will no longer be denied."

"We spread the curse to his people so that he must end the curse to save them!" Swiftrunner growled out.

"Please, mortal…you must go to him. Bring him here. If he sees these creatures, hears their plight…surely he will agree to end the curse."

What was allowed to happen was reprehensible. "I will do as you ask. I will try to get him to come. It is long past time to end the curse."

The Lady's eyes narrowed. She had little faith in Zathrian. "Tell him if he refuses, I will ensure that he never finds Witherfang. He will never cure his clan."

She rubbed her forehead in frustration. "Would that you had not said that, Lady. Two wrongs do not make a right and one revenge only compounds another. In this, you sound like Zathrian," she released a slow breath. "But I will do what I can to bring him here. This needs to end. Come," she said to her companions. "Let's end this." She looked up at Naton. "Please, stay here, my friend. I do not wish any harm to come to you. I will be back shortly, one way or another."

Naton scratched his side and inclined his head. "I do not like this, but I will accept your judgment."

They retreated back out the door they'd come in and hurried up the stairs. She was not expecting to find Zathrian in the main chamber. Perhaps, he feared what she would learn and did not think she would bring back Witherfang's heart. In that he was correct.

Zathrian rose from the corpse he'd been studying. "Ah. And here you are already."

"It would seem you saved me a trip back to camp. Gara quenathra? Why are you here?" she asked cautiously.

"You carved a safe enough path through the forest…at least safe enough for me to follow," he responded matter of fact.

But that wasn't exactly true. They'd skirted much of the danger.

"Ha!" Berchan replied with a hearty laugh. "You feared we would not bring back the heart and sought to make sure it was done."

He studied the larger human and then inclined his head. "Do you have the heart?"

She crossed her arms under her chest. "No. The Lady requests your appearance. If you do not agree to meet with her, she will ensure you never find Witherfang."

He began to pace. After a moment he came to a stop. "You do understand that she actually _is_ Witherfang?"

She pursed her lips. "I understand a great deal. I put all the pieces together except for the final one. Did she willingly leave the forest or did you bind her to the wolf. I assumed you bound her when I saw Witherfang briefly before we entered the ruin. He did not look like any normal wolf. She confirmed my suspicions. Still, it is the heart of the wolf you seek, not the heart of a spirit…which they likely do not physically have anyway."

"I did not realize you would learn so much. But you must understand, her nature is of the forest itself. Beautiful and terrible, serene and savage, maiden and beast. She is the Lady and Witherfang both, two sides of a single being. The curse came from her. Those she afflicted with it mirrored her own nature, becoming savage beast as well as…human."

Naton had not been able to remain behind. He wanted to ensure they made it through the forest safely. So he followed and he listened. "But it was _you_ that bound her… _you_ that caused her such torment and pain. That pain caused her to lash out. She was blind to everything but the pain and the rage of being forced into being. It took her many long years to find herself again and eventually we found her. She soothed our pain as she had soothed her own. In doing so, we remembered who we were and what was taken from us," Naton grumbled as he stepped from the doorway to join the group.

Zathrian stilled his features to not show the surprise of seeing a werewolf talk. "So the beast can speak."

His lip lifted and he forced it back down. They needed Zathrian, so he could not risk a confrontation. "So it would seem. I'm sorry for what happened to your family. But that was centuries ago and I had nothing to do with it. I was a merchant with a family of my own. I came only to trade with Varathorn as I had in the past when I was attacked. Now I am a monster and cannot return home to my wife and child until the curse is lifted."

"You may speak, but you are still a savage," he said with a harsh swipe of his hand." You attacked my clan. Nothing has changed; you are as savage as you have ever been!"

Nator clenched his fists. "I did nothing of the kind. Your clan was attacked because you refused our plea to be heard year after year. But, _I_ was not a part of the attack. It was my duty to protect the Lady, nothing more. Should a man have to pay for his ancestors crimes generations back? Should I have to pay when my ancestors were nowhere near your family? Should your clan have to pay for _your_ crimes? Who is the monster here, Zathrian? It was your actions against the Lady that began all of this – not her. She did not wish to be bound to a wolf. She did not wish to be filled with pain. What right did you have to rip her from her existence to make her suffer for your revenge? Who is the monster? Who is the savage one? He who has been given no choice and is controlled by a curse not of his making or he who willingly destroyed another for his own gains?" he growled.

He could not deny the creatures arguments were compelling, but he would not bend on this. There was no sense putting it off. At least he'd be in a position to force the spirit back into Witherfang so he could take his heart. "Enough," he said with a swipe of his hand. "I will come with you provided you protect me from being attacked."

"I will protect you so long as you do not attack first," she countered.

A harsh breath escaped his lungs. "So be it. Let us be done with this."

She rubbed Naton's back and when he lowered his head, she massaged his ears and then gave a good scratch behind them. The look on his face was priceless. And with any luck this was the last time he would be petted like a dog.

Zathrian rolled his eyes at the ridiculous display, but followed them down the stairs to the lair. He caught sight of the spirit and moved towards her. "I am here, spirit, as you requested." He would hear her out, but nothing would stay his hand.

Swiftrunner snarled and bound over to the ancient elf. "She is the Lady of the Forest! You will address her properly." He returned to his Lady.

"You've taken a name, spirit? And you've given names to your pets? These…beasts who follow you?" he asked.

"It was they who gave me a name, Zathrian. And the names they take are their own. They follow me because I help them find who they are," the Lady told him.

"Who they are has not changed from whom their ancestors were. Wild savages! Their twisted shape only mirrors their monstrous hearts!"

"You are wrong, Zathrian! Did you hear nothing from our talk? You are responsible for the curst that has befallen them; they are innocent of the crimes they are suffering for. Though your body is not twisted, your soul is. You are the one with the monstrous heart. To make innocents pay for crimes they did not commit," Naton growled.

"It is as I told you, Lady. He is not here to talk," Swiftrunner snarled.

"No," Zathrian said with a shake of his head. "I am here to talk, though I see little point in it. We all know where this will lead. Your nature compels it, as does mine."

The Lady moved to stand in front of the ancient elf. "It does not have to be that way. There is room in your heart for compassion, Zathrian. Surely, your retribution is spent."

Never. "My retribution is eternal, spirit, as is my pain. This is justice, no more."

"It ceased being justice centuries ago, Zathrian," Lyrica pointed out. "You have a family to think about now as well as a clan. If you do not bend you may lose Dyani and Niara to the curse, is that what you want? Are you so focused on the past that you will do nothing to save the future?" she asked gently.

A new pain washed over him. He never thought he'd find love again, but he had. "I can save them with Witherfang's heart!"

"Do not be blind, Zathrian! So long as the curse exists so too does the danger it poses. No…it magnifies. The Lady is what sooths them and that soothing allows them to think. Without that, they will revert to the mindless savages you believe them to be. Then no one is safe. Many innocents would fall to them, including any elves that venture into the forest. And if you care nothing for the new innocents that are slain or turned, then consider this. Once you kill Witherfang and take his heart to cure you people, how will you cure them again if they are attacked anew? The only way to ensure the safety of your new family is to end the curse. An ending long past due, lethalin."

No…no…there had to be another way. "I have heard of your power over the beasts. You could - "

She blinked; stunned that he would suggest such a thing. "So I should give up my hopes and dreams, my life to babysit the curse you refuse to lift? I, too, am to pay for your vengeance? How many lives will you sacrifice for your vengeance? What do you think your family would think if they learned the truth?" she shook her head. "I'm a Grey Warden now. I am already bound to the blight. I cannot stay in the forest. Even if I could, I am not immortal. I will die and then no one would be left to babysit your curse." She placed a hand on his arm. "It is time to bury the past to ensure the future."

"But…lifting the curse will see my death," he admitted. "My wife…my children. I would be lost to them."

Now she understood. "I do not wish death upon you. But you prolong your life through bloodmagic. Through the curse. Your death would hurt them, I will not deny that. But it will ensure that they will never suffer the anguish of the curse. The truth will be known now; there is no way to stop that from happening. How they continue seeing you, Zathrian, depends wholly on your choice now. Do they see you as hero giving his life to ensure an end to the suffering and safer future for everyone or do they see you as a monster, refusing to help others because of his own, selfish desires? How do you want your family to remember you?"

He could feel the truth of her words humming through him as if they had a life of their own. He met her gaze. "Are you doing this to me?" he asked quietly.

She gave a slow shake of her head. "I am only allowing you to feel. I am not controlling what you feel," she assured him.

"Kill him…kill him now!" Swiftrunner growled. "He will never help us, my Lady!"

The Lady placed her hand on her wayward child. "No, Swiftrunner. We will not kill him. If there is no room in our hearts for compassion, how may we expect there to be room in his? This does not have to lead to bloodshed."

"Perhaps, I have lived…too long. This hatred in me is like an old, gnarled root and I cannot let my family be consumed by my vengeance." He looked over at the spirit. "What of you, spirit? You are bound to the curse just as I am. Do you not fear your end?"

"You are my maker, Zathrian. You gave me form and consciousness where none existed. I have known pain and love, hope and fear, all the joy that is life." She looked down as she gathered her thoughts. "Yet of all things I desire nothing more than an end. I beg you, maker…put an end to me. _We_ beg you…show mercy."

Zathrian lowered his head. He did not wish to leave his family. He knew Dyani would make a good keeper, but he wanted to watch his daughter and his unborn twins grow up. But he would do anything to protect them – even if he had to give his life to do so. He nodded. "Then let it be so. Let us…let us put an end to it all."

The Lady nodded her agreement. She then turned to her children, touching each of them within reach, assuring them that all would be well with her touch. She then inclined her head to let him know she was ready.

Zathrian turned to look at Lyrica. "Tell my wife...my children – let them know I love them. Hopefully, they will not judge me too harshly. I would do _anything_ for them. I do this willingly _for_ them." He returned his attention to the spirit. He closed his eyes and murmured the words that would sever the binding and lift the curse.

Her heart went out to Zathrian and his family when his body slumped to the floor. She felt the hot pressure of heat behind her eyes and forced herself to keep the tears at bay. Now was not the time to feel her friend's grief. She watched as fear and then peace fell over the Lady's face as she faded into a glowing light, returning from whence she came. Magic seeped from Zathrian's body joining that of the Lady's as the curse itself crumbled into dust, returning the werewolves to their original state.

Swiftrunner faced the dalish elf. "It's over. She's gone…we're human. I can scarcely believe it." He bowed to the elf. "I never believed in you, for that I am sorry. I never expected a dalish to want to lift the curse."

She inclined her head. "No single race should be judged by the actions of a few. Just as no one should have to pay for the crimes perpetrated by another. I will hope, in time, that more people will come to understand this simple truth. So – what will you do now?"

"Those of us that have homes will be returning to them. Others, I suspect, with battle experience would be willing to join your cause and fight the blight. If the blight is not stopped then none of us will have homes for long," Swiftrunner told her.

"Thank you. We appreciate any help you can give us, whether it is fighting, helping those that are wounded – all support is welcomed. Let your brothers and sisters know that if any do choose to help us stop the blight that they should go to Redcliff and join with the Arl's forces. They will be able to help supply you with armor and weapons." She also explained to them about what was happening in Denerim and how a traitor to the crown had claimed himself regent. She finished by telling them of the rightful king and queen and how they intended to take back their throne and unite Ferelden against the blight.

Swiftrunner shook his head. "So much has happened that we were unaware of. I will spread the word. Thank you," he said with an incline of his head. "We will never forget you or what you have done for us."

When he turned away to talk to the others her gaze settled on Naton. A smile spread over her lips at the sight of the blonde man. "I would imagine you are eager to return to your wife and child. I wish you all the best, Naton. It has been an honor to know you."

He knelt on one knee. "The honor has been all mine, my Lady. You have taught me much and thanks to you I am a new man." He rose to his feet. "My next daughter will proudly bear the name Lyrica. I will show you to where the iron bark is as I told you I would, before I begin my journey home."

And he did. Berchan picked up a large piece that had fallen free from the tree. She smiled at Naton. "Thank you. This will mean a lot to an old friend."

Naton shook his head. "I owe you far more than a piece of bark. Far more than could _ever_ be repaid. Thank you…again. I would stay and talk with you, but I have much time I need to make up for with my family. We live in Amaranthine. Look us up when you get the chance. Thank you again for all you have done. He gave her a wink and dashed down the trail.

Outside of Zathrian's loss and what that would mean to her friend, this felt good. She was glad she could help them regain their lives. "Let us check on Danyla and then return to the dalish camp."

-BREAK SIX-

They had little interference on their journey back through the forest. There had been once group of darkspawn they'd dealt with, but nothing else attacked them. The forest became far more beautiful when it welcomed them. There was no sign of Danyla or Ninia where they'd last seen them so they continued on to camp hoping to find them there. She smiled at Athras when she saw the brunette in his arms. There were tears in both of their eyes.

"Ma serannas, lethalan. Ma sarannas. Danyla told me how you wouldn't let her give up on life." He looked at the mage. "Thank you for easing her pain." He looked back at Lyrica. "Ma serannas for bringing my wife back to me. I – I never thought I'd see her again. It will be some time before I let her out of my sight," he admitted.

"Ma serrannas to all of you for making this happen. I wanted nothing more than death. But you gave me peace and then you gave me life. If ever you have need of anything, please call on us. We will be there for you as you have been there for us," Danyla promised.

She studied the human that stood next to the elven pair. She had jet black hair and amber eyes. "Ninia?" Lyrica asked.

Ninia grinned and nodded. "You've done it. I don't know how, but you've done it. I knew I probably wouldn't be welcomed here, but I wanted to make sure Danyla made it back to the camp safely. But, to my surprise, once Danyla told them what happened, the dalish have welcomed me."

Danyla rubbed Ninia's arm. "You guarded me while I was…asleep. You didn't have to, but you did. You went out of your way to help one of the clan. We will not forget that, Ninia." She nodded to Berchan. "I see you found quite a large chunk of ironbark. Varathorn will be greatly pleased."

Lyrica nodded. "I'm glad that things turned out well for the both of you. If you will excuse us, we need to get that ironbark into Varathorn's hands."

"Of course," Danyla said. "Dareth shiral, lethalan."

"Wait!" Ninia said before they could get very far. "I - I do not have a family to return to and I do not - cannot return to the Circle. I would like to stay with you. Help you fight the blight. It's – it's all I have left."

Everyone needed something to fight for, someplace to belong. "I will take you back to our camp. The final say on if you can stay rests in the hands of the rightful king and queen. But I do not think they will turn you away. They are good people."

Bethany smiled and handed the woman the branch staff from the Elder Tree. "Then you will surely need a weapon and this one is powerful."

Ninia sighed in relief. "Thank you," she said as she took the staff. Indeed, she could feel the power coursing through it. "I was stripped of my magic as a werewolf. I am glad to have it back. It was as if I had lost a limb…an invisible itch I could not reach. But I am finally whole again." She strapped the staff to her back with a relieved smile.

Lyrica was curious why she could not return to the Circle, but now was not the time for stories. They would have that time around the campfire for the evening. She looked up at the sky. Dusk was not too far off and she hoped to be away from the dalish camp before they made camp for the night themselves.

She led them over to Varathorn's aravel. "Varathorn – my friend has brought you back some ironbark."

Berchan lifted the large piece of ironbark and planted it in front of him. He could barely see over the top of it.

Varathorn inhaled deeply. "I did not expect for you to find so much and of such quality!" He motioned his assistant to collect the ironbark. "Ma serannas, lethalan! I will be able to craft many fine pieces with this amount of ironbark. Please, come back before you leave camp and I will have something crafted to aid you in the coming battle."

"I appreciate the thought, lethalin, but we did not retrieve this for a reward," she assured him.

"It is not a reward, lethalan. I am far too old fight the blight, but I want to do my part, even if it is a small part. And the weapon I craft will aid you in the fight to come. Go now…and come back before you depart," he said shooing her with his hands so he could begin his work.

She inclined her head to him. She understood the need to feel you were doing your part to help end the blight. "As you wish, lethalin. We will return." She grinned. She wasn't even sure he'd heard her. He was already intently studying the ironbark. She shrugged, patted Berchan's chest piece with affection and then hurried over to where Lanaya stood. She closed her eyes for a moment, wishing Zathrian would appear. When she opened them, the place he once stood remained empty. She wished there had been another way. Despite his anguish, what he'd done was wrong and so many had paid the price.

A few of their clan that had turned had returned to the camp, no longer cursed. They had told her what had happened. "It is good to see you again, lethalan. The clan is cured of the curse, but the price paid was high. We will all mourn Zathrian's death. He was a good and compassionate keeper. We look to Dyani to lead us now. She is a good woman and will make a fine keeper."

She remained silent about Zathrian's link to the curse. There was no need to shame him in death or to tarnish the clan's memories of him. "I was hoping to see her now."

"Of course," Lanaya said. "She will want to see you. Though…it would probably be best if your friends remained outside. She is in mourning and that is stressful enough on her pregnancy. The aravel behind me is Zathrian's – er…hers."

"Take all the time you need," Berchan told her. "You can find us at the fire." He looked down at the wolf near her legs. "You may wish to release him to the forest now."

She blinked, having forgotten that in all that had happened. She knelt down in front of the wolf and framed his face with her hands. "You may return to your brethren, lethalin. You were of great help to us and you have my thanks."

He tilted his head, a small whine escaping. He chuffed his negation. He was a beta wolf in his pack. He would never sire young and the chances of starting his own pack were slim to none. He felt useful here; he did not wish to leave.

The pictures he showed her said far more than any words could have. "I understand. If you do not mind leaving the forest, then you may stay with us." When he chuffed again she smiled and rubbed his head. "Then stay with Berchan. I will be out soon." She rose and looked up at Berchan. "I – we'll talk later. I will find you at the fire shortly." Without another word, she opened the door to the aravel and stepped inside.

She saw Dyani curled up on her side in the bed. "It would appear my timing is bad," she said quietly, not wishing to wake her friend if she was sleeping.

"Don't you dare leave, Lyri!" Dyani struggled up into a seated position to rest her back against the supportive pillows. "I would never be able to forgive you if you failed to see me while you were here," she groused and held her arms out to her old friend.

Lyrica sat down on the bed next to her and hugged her friend as tightly as her large belly would allow. "Ir abelas, ma vhenan." When she finally pulled back she saw the toddler buried under a blanket with only her face peeking out. "She has copper hair like yours. You are so lucky to have such a beautiful angel in your life."

Dyani stroked her daughter's hair gently. "I know. I didn't know how much I would love her until I carried her under my heart." The smile slipped from her face. "She does not understand about her father's death. She is too young. But I'll never let her forget him." She looked up at her old friend. "After we married, Zathrian told me what happened all those years ago. I understand his grief – the loss of his children. If anything happened to my children-" she rubbed her hand over her large belly. "Still – what he did was wrong. For so many years he ignored my pleas to talk to the spirit. Only today did I learn ending the curse meant ending his own life. He told me before he left for the ruins. He wanted me to know in case…in case he didn't come back." She wiped the tear that slid down her cheek. She thought she didn't have any left in her.

She laid her hand on her friend's belly and closed her eyes. The pictures she saw were not fully developed, but she got a sense of what they were feeling. "They feel your pain. They do not want you to feel sad. They enjoy hearing your laughter. It makes them feel…light...no, warm. Singing?…they are comforted when you sing to them." She felt Dayni's hand cover hers and opened her eyes.

"Ma serannas, vhenan. It is good to have that connection to them. I will try to laugh and sing more. I am not worried about us, but the nights will be long," she admitted.

"His last words were of his love for you and your children. If there was another way, I'd have taken it. But the only other path would have been to kill the spirit and every last werewolf in the forest, to include those of the clan. I – I could not be party to slaying so many innocents."

Dyani shook her head. "Of course you couldn't. I would never have wanted that. Zathrian was meant to die centuries ago. I am grateful for the time I had with him. Stolen time I never should have had, but memories that I can hold onto. I already know what I will name them. If a boy and a girl then they will be Zathrian and Lyrica. If two boys then Zathrian and Lyrican, if two girls then Zathria and Lyrica. It is my way of keeping you both in my life."

She turned her hand over to grip her friend's. "Ar lath ma, vhenan." She went on to tell her old friend about Tamlen's loss and how she became a Grey Warden. She also told her about people that she traveled with and the goals they had set out to accomplish.

Her heart bled for her friend, forced to live a life she did not want. "Much has happened in your life. Ir abelas, vhenan. But something good has come of this new life, has it not? The man…Berchan. There was a light in your eyes when you spoke of him. Did you heart find love once more?"

Did it? She had been intrigued when he said he would not be adverse to having something more with her. But they had yet to talk about it. "I – I don't know what to feel. He said he was not adverse to having something more with me than…"

"Sex?" Dyani teased with a grin.

She could feel the heat bloom in her cheeks. "Yes… _sex_. I honestly don't know what will come of us, neither of our people will accept any kind of union between us and our children…" her cheeks grew hotter.

Dyani laughed softly. "If you are thinking of marriage and children then that tells me well where your heart lies. If he is as strong as you, then neither of you will care much what others think. And even if the other clans do not accept you being together, we will. You both have done a great service to the Saoirse Clan and you will always be welcome among us. Not…that you weren't before. But know that he is welcome here too."

"Ma serannas. We will see how the wind blows." She grinned. "I would not be adverse to having something more with him either. But I don't like to think that I'm that obvious about it," she teased her friend.

"I just know you, vhenan. Love, no matter how fleeting it is - it's worth fighting for. I would rather feel the pain of my husband's loss than never to have known his love."

She squeezed Dyani's hands and rose to kiss her on her forehead. "You will make a wise keeper, Dyani. I - I wish I could stay…but we have a world to save. Now that I have found you again, I will not let you slip away…or my little nieces and nephews. If I do not get a chance to come back by before you move on, know that I will find you after the blight has ended."

"Ma serannas…ma serannas for being here. Seeing you has helped me in a time that I needed it the most. Ar lath ma, vhenan."

"Ar lath ma." She hugged her old friend one last time, released a deep breath and slipped out of the aravel. The first thing she noticed was the sun hand sank farther than she'd wanted. They would have to camp right outside the dalish camp. It was too late to travel this night. She walked slowly towards the fire. She could hear the laughter before she saw those seated around the fire pit. Berchan had a plate on each thigh. She laughed. "Hungry tonight, are you?"

"Hungry yes…but not for food," he said, giving her a knowing look. When she sat down next to him he handed her the second plate. "Sarel was regaling us with tales. There is much I wish to learn about the dalish." He cleared his throat when he felt his cheeks warm. "We are staying the night, by the by. They have offered us tents and soft bedding. And I, for one, intend to enjoy an evening not being dinner for the mosquitoes. I figured you would not mind if we got an early start in the morning." He chuckled when he saw her tear into her plate of food as if it would disappear if she stopped to chew.

"Oh, hush. I'm hungry. First food…then you," she said between rushed bites.

"I'm okay with that," he said with a booming laugh. "It does a man proud when his woman wants him so badly she must needs inhale her supper."

That wasn't why - wait! His woman? She didn't belong to anybody. She was no possession to be owned. She finished her meal, nodded to Sarel, patted the wolf's head and turned to Berchan. "Where's our tent?"

Berchan blinked. Something was off in her voice. He took the last bite from his hare haunch and tossed the remains in the fire and rose from the bench. "We will see you in the morning," he said to the others around the fire.

She bit her lip. "Ir abelas. Forgive my manners. I've been waiting all day to get him alone." She lowered her head with embarrassment. That had not come out the way she'd intended. "I…uh…"

Everyone around the fire joined in laughter. "Go, lethalan. We will break our fast together in the morn," Sarel said as he shooed her with his hands.

He placed a hand at her back. "Come, I will show you where we will sleep." He let her to a slight clearing in front of an aravel. Three tents ringed a small, lit fire pit. "We are in the tent on the left." When he began to unbuckle his armor he was pleased when she assisted him with its removal, just as she'd been doing for some time now. He had feared something had gone wrong between them, but she was not acting like that was the case. When he was down to his underarmor he helped her off with her light armor. He left his shield outside the tent with his armor, but their weapons they brought into the tent and pushed them to the side.

The tent was not as large as the tent they shared at the main camp, but this tent was built for elves, not humans. He was thankful for it all the same. He couldn't sit up without his head pushing the top of it, but at least his feet did not stick out the tent flaps. He pulled his shirt off, but stopped before he removed his pants when he noticed she still had on her small clothes. He sprawled on his side with is weight on his elbow and looked up at her. She was small enough that she could sit cross-legged. "Is there something bothering you?"

"I am not a possession to be owned."

He blinked and then shook his head in confusion. "I know that. Why would you even say that to me?"

Had she misunderstood his comment? "You said I was _your_ woman. I belonged to _you_. A possession."

The breath whooshed from his lungs. "That's not what I meant when I called you _my_ woman. Perhaps, I spoke out of line. Perhaps I should have called you my lover." He reached out and took her hand in his. She didn't pull away. That was a good sign. It was too dark see the stunning golden sea-green of her eyes, but they were no less beautiful to him. He gave her hand a tug and she fell forward against him. He turned her until she was on her side facing him and he placed her hand over his heart. "Much better…now I don't have to strain my neck to look up at you." He removed his hand from hers to gently push her light brown hair away from her face. When she lowered her hand he brought it back to settle over his heart. "I need to know what you feel about me."

When her gaze lowered he gently lifted her chin. "Please look at me. No matter what you say, I need you to look at me when you say it."

She lifted her eyes to meet his. "You are brave, courageous…sometimes outrageous. You make me smile, you lift my spirits when they need lifted. You are warm, you are not afraid to show compassion or that you care. I feel safe when I am with you. Not that I am some simpering, weak maid, mind you," she said as she gave his chest a poke with her finger. "But I know – I _know_ you will always have my back, no matter what happens. You are a gentle giant – at least…"

"To you?" he asked softly.

She gave a slight nod of her head. "To me. You are my mountain man."

A small grin played on his lips. "I am _your_ mountain man but you are not _my_ woman? _My_ little one?"

She blinked. She hadn't realized she thought of him as _hers_. But she did. Then it was too late to pull back to save her heart, even if she needed to. "It's too late…" she mumbled under her breath.

His thumb swept over her cheek. "Too late for what?" he asked cautiously, wondering if she was going to say that it was too late for them.

She bit her lip and closed her eyes for a moment. Dyani's words came back to her. 'I would rather feel the pain of my husband's loss than never to have known his love.' She opened her eyes to search his. "Do you ever see a world in which you could…love me? Not – not now, I'm not trying to put you - "

He lowered his finger to cover her lips and halt her words. "I can see such a world. But that doesn't answer my question. Too late for what?" His finger slid slowly from her lips. He watched as it caught her bottom lip and tugged it just the slightest bit. He tore his gaze from lips he wanted to feast on to meet her eyes.

She swallowed hard. "It's too late for a great many things. It's too late to run. It's too late to turn away. I was going to – I can't …I can't keep up this casual… _thing_ that we have going. I'm not that kind of woman. I need something more than that. But when I called you _mine_ I realized that it was too late for me to save my heart." She lowered her eyes. She thought she had courage, but not in this. She could not remember ever feeling quite so vulnerable before.

When she tried to turn away he pulled her even closer to him. "I'm not letting you get away that easily. You cannot simply give a man his… _heart's desire_ and then turn away from him," he told her, coining Cammen's phrase. "Ar lath ma, vhenan."

Her heart stilled in her chest. She had to swallow hard again before she could push the next words out of her restricted throat. "Do you even know what that even means?" But still, the words were scant more than a whisper.

He frowned and closed his eyes. "Please do not tell me I just said something horrible to you. If I did, I'll kill him." He'd had a talk with Cammen before he went to get his supper.

"It would depend on what your idea of horrible is. Tell me what you think it means." She had to know if he knew what those words meant.

A sharp breath slipped from his lips. "I would hope they mean that I am in love with you."

Her heart fluttered in her chest. Her hand slipped up to cup his cheek. "Love or not, I will be no man's mistress."

What did she mean by that? That he could only have her if he wed her? "Does that mean you're proposing to me? That you intend to make an honest man out of me?" he teased, uncertain of what she meant.

Her mouth fell open and snapped shut. She'd heard one couple discussing marriage at Ostagar. "I – I don't think I could afford the dowry."

He chuckled. "Then, mayhap, I should be the one to court you." The smile slipped from his face. "What did you mean you would be no man's mistress?"

"Just that. If you love me and wish to be with me, I will not share you with another. Nor, will I stand aside and be the mistress while you marry someone of noble birth to produce heirs. If that is what you have in mind - "

His finger rose to cover her lips once more. "We were discussing _our_ marriage and now you have me wedding another? I should be offended, but I can understand why you might think such. I know that is how things are often done among nobility. But they are not me. When we wed, you will bear my heirs, no one else. And…so you know – I don't share either."

"Wait -" His finger slipped past her lips when she spoke. She heard his groan and playfully nipped it to get him to remove it so she could talk. "Stop," she said before he could kiss her. "You were serious about bonding our lives together? It – it was not just teasing?"

He pulled back with a frown when she asked him to stop. "Teasing? I would not jest about marriage. I have never given my heart to a woman before, but I have given it to you. And provided you do not throw it at my feet and stomp on it, I would wed you tomorrow – were it possible. Grey Wardens do not live long lives and I do not want to waste a moment making you my wife. That is…if you will have me."

When she was silent too long he wondered if he'd offended her with his lousy proposal. "Maker's balls," he grumbled. "My proposal should have been more romantic. You deserve better than that from me. I -"

This time it was her finger that stilled his lips. "I saw nothing wrong with it. I do not know what it is like in your world, but dalish speak from the heart – as you did." She released his lips and slipped her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. "Ar lath ma, vhenan. I want to know your love. I will bond with you." She knew they would be shunned by most of their peoples. She knew, but she didn't care.

She would have his love whether she wed him or not…but there was no need to point that out. His lips met hers and he gave into the hunger that had stalked him all day.

-BREAK SEVEN-

Come the dawning of the morning sun, sounds of a stirring camp woke them. They pulled on their under clothing and hurried out to locate a bush to attend to nature's call. Back at the tent they helped buckle each other's armor into place. The children and elderly foraged, the hunters hunted. He had wanted to help them hunt food for breakfast, but she assured him that they were guests and as such it would be considered rude for him to offer to help. It would show that he did not believe that were capable of providing for their guests.

He slipped away when Varathorn called her over to show her the bow that he'd crafted for her to use in her fight against the blight. The bow was far lighter than she'd expected. It had both elegant curves and wicked spikes, allowing it to be used as a melee weapon if the need arose. But the spikes were intricately placed and carved. They did not mar the beauty of the bow's design and its metallic blue sheen enhanced it, giving it an ethereal look. She drew back on it, impressed with the way it felt in her hands. "Ma serannas, lethalin, you have outdone yourself. I've never seen a finer bow! I cannot wait for the archdemon to taste its kisses!"

He laughed at her choice of words, but was pleased she liked the bow. "The shem might get jealous."

"Oh, hush," she scoffed with a grin. Her smile slipped. "You are accepting of…us?"

"I would have preferred…" He shook his head. Tamlen now lay in the beyond, it did not matter what he preferred. "The shem – Berchan, was willing to risk his life to aid the clan. I do not begrudge your love. He may not be an elf, but he is as welcome as any dalish in our clan. You realize the path you walk will not be easy?"

She nodded. "We know. Sometimes love requires great sacrifice. Dyani told me something that touched my heart. She said, 'I would rather feel the pain of my husband's loss than never to have known his love.' She is right. He is a good and honorable man. I want to know his love."

Varathorn looked over her shoulder to see the giant human carrying their keeper, who was round with babes. She was on bed rest to prevent premature delivery. "It would appear our new keeper does not wish to be caged today." He watched as the giant lowered her onto a bench at the central fire. The clan flocked around her and there was a buzz of excitement in the air. But they could not make out the words.

"Ma serannas, again. I will go get my old bow. It is not as nice as this, but it was made by Ilen. It will surly make a new hunter proud." She hurried back to the tent, laid her new bow inside and pulled out the one she'd had since she became a hunter. She then returned to Varathorn and handed him her old longbow.

He ran his hand down the bow's curve. "Heavy, made for a man. It has extraordinary balance. It is a marvelous work of craftsmanship. Are you sure you wish to part with it?" He was stunned that she part with such a bow.

"I am sure, lethalin. We are traveling light. My arrows' speed and distance will increase with the new bow. I have no need to carry two," she assured him with a grin.

He could hardly turn down such a magnificent bow. "I will accept this bow, but only in trade." He pulled out a couple of dozen of the arrows he'd made from the ironbark. "Take these in trade, lethalan. I will not take _no_ for an answer. I know I have still got the better of this trade, but your quiver will not hold more arrows."

The arrows had the same metallic blue sheen as the bow. She picked up one of the arrows and examined it closely. It was a deadly work of art, perfectly balanced. It was exquisite. And with her enchanted quiver, she would never run out of arrows. "Ma serannas, lethalin. I am very pleased with the trade." She looked back when the activity of the camp picked up. "Will you be moving on soon?"

He looked around in confusion. Rarely did the camp see such bustle unless they were getting ready to break camp. "Not that I am aware. Now that the werewolf concern has been ended, we are in no rush leave the forest. Or so I believed." It did not make much sense. "Go now, and put your arrows up. It is nearly time to break our fast."

She did as he suggested. Every time she came too near another the excited talking abruptly ended. She pulled her old arrows from the quiver to replace them with the new ones. She returned to Varathorn one more time to hand them over to him, but she left before he could instigate another trade. When she approached the bench Dyani and Berchan were seated on he scooted down to give her room to sit next to her friend. "Why all the excitement in camp? Have you decided to move on?"

Dyani smiled at her and stroked her friend's cheek. "No, vhenan. Perhaps everyone is just excited to have had such valued guests stay the night." She smiled when she caught sight of Lanaya holding her daughter's hand and leading her over. She held her arms open for her little girl and the wee thing let go of Lanaya's hand and rushed into her arms. "Da'len, I want you to meet your Aunt Lyri."

Niara looked up into the other woman's face. "Oooh…pretty eyes! Yellow stars!"

Lyrica's cheeks pinkened. Outside of having magic, that was one thing about herself that she wished she could change. Her eyes were just too unusual and tended to draw attention, when she preferred to be overlooked in general. But it was hard to resist the sweet innocence of Niara's plump cheeks, loose copper curls and large, expressive, hazel eyes. She nodded her head in an exaggerated motion. "Oh, yes. One night, when I was very young, I plucked two stars from the sky and put them in my eyes so I could see better at night."

Niara's eyes opened wide in surprise and then her hand flew to her mouth when she giggled. "You are silly!"

She nodded again. "Ma serannas, da'len. I am trying. Do you want to sit on my lap?" she asked with an open smile. When the little girl nodded she plucked her up, gave her small toss and settled the giggle girl on her lap.

Niara waved her down. "There is a giant shem next to you," she whispered loudly, pointing to the man on the bench.

"Should we run and hide?" she whispered back to the little girl, winking at Berchan.

"No!" she shook her copper curls. "He saved us. He is _good_ shem."

She beamed a smile at the little girl. "He's the best and I will let you in on a little secret." She lowered her head to the toddler's and whispered in her ear. "I love him very much. He is the keeper of my heart," she admitted to her niece.

"Ooooh….is he my Uncle Shem?" she asked innocently.

She cleared her throat to keep from laughing. "Do you want him to be?" Lyrica inquired. The little one was far too young to understand hatred and bigotry.

Niara turned her head to study the giant's face intently. When he winked at her she nodded her head. "Yes," she said in a very serious tone.

She hugged her niece. "Then, perhaps, if the stars align, one day he will be your Uncle Berchan (Bear-sean)."

Niara nodded. "Giant Uncle Ber."

Berchan laughed at her endearing innocence. Giant Uncle Bear was hilarious. "I would like to be your giant Uncle Ber, da'len." While he was a large man, he did not consider himself to be a giant of any kind. Sten and Kadar were certainly larger than he was. But to a tiny sprite like Niara, he could certainly understand why she called him a giant. Indeed, he rather felt like one himself in the dalish camp.

Lyrica watched in confusion as more benches were brought in and one was moved a bit further out. The scent of cooking meat came from a more distant fire, instead of the one the main camp fire. Something was definitely going on. Breakfast also seemed to be delayed, which was not at all a common occurrence for the clans. Breakfast was always eaten early so that their duties for the day could begin. But excitement still buzzed through the camp and people were rushing back and forth. Even Varathorn seemed to be hard at work over at his aravel. Since duties were not started until after breakfast, what was he doing? The squirming of her niece got her attention and she looked down to see the girl holding her arms out to Berchan. His giant hands nearly complete engulfed Niara's torso as he lifted her off her lap and deposited her on his.

He held on to the tiny bundle as his leg bounced her up and down. Her shrieks and giggles warmed his heart. He wondered if he and Lyri would be blessed with children. She may even be carrying his child now and that thought warmed his heart. He'd been told the taint made it difficult for Grey Wardens to have children, but they were very new to the taint, so it was not out of the realm of possibility. As far as he knew, neither one of them were doing anything to prevent a pregnancy. He loved children and like his father, he would have a house full of them if it were possible. And if it didn't prove possible, he was not adverse to adopting. It was likely that many children would be in need of a loving home due to both the civil war and the blight.

When the darling baby grabbed his armor to pull herself up into a stand and motioned that she wanted up on his shoulders, he carefully lifted her and settled her around his neck, between the two shoulder guards of his armor. Her arms locked around his forehead to hang on and the heels of her feet drummed against his chest guard in excitement. "I'll be right back," he said to the others. He rose, his hands holding the baby girls legs and walked over to have a word with Varathorn. Gilmore joined him.

Dyani squeezed her friend's leg. "I think he will make a good father. He appears to have a great appreciation for children."

A slight frown settled on Lyrica's lips. "I am not allowed to explain why, but Grey Wardens find it difficult to conceive children. I do not know if we will be blessed with any."

"Children can come from the heart as well as the womb," Dyani chided her friend for not looking at the whole picture. "There will be many orphans from the coming war, I fear. We are prepared to do our part. We will take in any elven children and raise them as dalish, regardless of their backgrounds." She rubbed her belly. "After meeting your friends, I've come to realize that not all humans are the same. My husband hated humans, but I do not share his hatred, nor did most of the clan. We are not unwilling to aid human children, but I do not know if they would be content being raised dailish."

Lyrica met her friend's eyes. She was grateful her friend called them humans rather than shemlen. The connotation behind the word shemlen was blame. The blame of humans for elves losing their immortality. She did not think it was that simple. In fact, that story had never made sense to her. If they were ever truly immortal, as the legends depicted, then something far greater was the cause of them losing that immortality. "Maybe that is how peace and acceptance begins. The segregation, willing or otherwise, further widens the gulf between the races. It only fosters hostility. Us and them. It is even that way among our own people. We are taught to look down on our city brethren. And that is a practice I have ever been against…at least once I was old enough to see things in a different light. I can only hope this war helps us foster a trust between the allies. We will be fighting for our lives together, because none of us can do it alone."

She patted Lyrica's leg as she watched her daughter bounce on the giant's shoulders. "Even as a da'len you drove the hahren crazy always questioning beliefs and needing to know more. I know many of the clan turned a deaf ear to your wisdom. You were da'len, what could you know? But I listened, vhenan. I took that with me when I left; and like you – I didn't let anyone change my mind. Not even my husband."

A girl, not yet an adult ran over and whispered something in Dyani's ear and then ran off. Her friend then nodded to Berchan. What had she just missed? She watched her mountain man lower the toddler to the ground, who was scooped up by Lanaya before she could get too close to the fire. Berchan then picked Dyani up and took her to the lone bench further away from the others on the opposite side of the fire before returning to her. The benches on this side began to fill up. She could see the beaming smiles on Bethany's and Gilmore's faces. The same girl, Marletha, returned and placed a flowered crown on the top of her and her companions' heads. Were they honoring them for the part they played in saving the clan? Was that why breakfast was being delayed? They did not need any formal honoring for their aid. But she would not be so rude as say such a thing.

Two newlywed women sat down on either side of their keeper, both only just showing that they were with child. Were their husbands freed from the curse? It was the only thing that made sense. When Berchan held out his hand to her she took it and allowed him to pull her to her feet. They followed Bethany and Gilmore as they approached the keeper. Small girls rushed out and sprinkled flower petals to carpet their advance. The same flowers that adorned their heads. Flowers that were used to help couples conceive. She blinked as a realization dawned on her. She turned startled eyes up to meet Berchan's warm, light brown gaze. His lips curved into a smile, but he said nothing.

They came to a stop in front of the bench and the young wives helped Dyani to her feet. Bethany wanted to ask Gilmore why he was not standing next to Berchan. It was customary for him to do so. But when the camp grew quiet she knew she'd lost her chance. They'd gone over this ahead of time. Why was he balking tradition?

"Take the hand of your intended and hold it out," Dyani told them.

Bethany blinked in startled wonder, her eyes lifting to meet Gilmore's.

"Surprise," he whispered as he took her hand and held it out.

And it was a surprise. The topic of marriage had eventually come up, and he'd even romantically proposed to her under the flowery blooms of a tree. But they had decided to wait until after the archdemon was destroyed to make their vows. At least she thought that was the plan.

The two women stepped forward and intricately wrapped their hands together with a long, slim woven scarf made of silky fibers and then knotted it beneath their joined hands.

Dyani's voice rose as she spoke a prayer to the gods to grant the couples a long, fruitful life together and a request to the dread wolf, Fen'Harel, to leave them in peace. When the last words left her lips she looked expectantly at Lyrica to recite the vows of bonding. (1)

She looked up into his warm, light brown eyes and knew she would forsake all others for him. "Ghilan'nain enaste var aravel. I shall be the wind at your back and the voice that calls you home. However far I wander, I vow I will always return to you. Falon'din enaste var aravel. I vow to walk no path in life you cannot follow. Even unto death, I shall be the hand that guides you through the Beyond. Andruil enaste var aravel.Your hunt is my hunt: together we are stronger than one. I will be your steady arm, and I vow we shall not waver. Elgar'nan enaste var aravel. I vow to be the shield at your back and the sword in your hand. From this day on, I shall shelter you against harm and no foe shall stand between us. Sylaise enaste var aravel. I will be your warmth in winter's cold, and the balm to your hurts. When the long night closes in upon us, I vow to be your light in the darkness. June enaste var aravel. I vow that all I possess in this world is yours to share. Let all things wrought from my hand be as from your own, and my every labor a gift to you. Dirthamen enaste var aravel. From this day on, let no words pass unspoken between us. I vow to keep my secrets for your ears alone, and to mind what council you bring before me. Mythal enaste var aravel. I vow you shall shed no tears alone. All that life brings us, be it bitter or sweet, we shall taste together. As one, we shall endure. And if Fen'Harel should cross your path, I vow to stand at your side and give you the strength you need to turn him away. Lama, ara las mir lath. Bellanaris. From this moment on, I will love you through eternity."

He was stunned by the depth of the dalish vows. He placed a large ring on the palm of her hand and wiggled his right finger on the hand that was tied to hers. He smiled when she slipped the metallic blue ring over his knuckles. He repeated the same vows as best he could remember. "From this moment on, I will love you through eternity." He slipped the ring he'd gotten her onto her finger and raised it to his lips for a brief kiss.

They turned to watch Gilmore and Bethany speak more traditional, but no less meaningful, vows and exchange rings.

With their vows completed the keeper gave her blessing to the unions and instructed them to seal their vows with a kiss. As the couples kissed the two young brides each lifted the door of a small wooden cage to release a pair of mated, white doves for each couple, so that their love would lift upon wings to the heavens to be blessed by the gods.

Cheers filled the camp along with a hearty breakfast feast, followed by games and revelry that would last well into the night. The couples would remained bound for twenty-four hours to prove they could work together to accomplish anything that needed to be done.

They included Ninia as often as they could in everything they did. She was a part of their group now and they wanted to make sure she knew it. But they noticed she tended to gravitate towards the young children, playing games with them. Lyrica couldn't help but wonder if she'd been a mother once. So far, she had no spoken much on her past life; it was as if she wanted to forget the past. Perhaps, one day she will feel comfortable enough to share her story.

Berchan had it worse than she did, since his right hand was bound to her left. Even eating had become an awkward experience. He was used to holding his shield in his left hand and his mother had taught him how to fight with his whole body, but fine motor skills were a challenge. Often, she would end up feeding them both, but she didn't mind. To her, eating had become a far more intimate affair when she fed him. Potty breaks were a unique experience. While there may not have been much privacy in the camp, having to assist each other was a whole new level of awkwardness. Games were far easier. He was already used to shortening his stride to stay at her side and they worked as a team, just as they did in battle.

Dyani had to go and rest several times during the day, but she refused to stay down for long; she would not miss out on her sister's bonding day festivities. She had not seen her for many years and did not know if she would ever see her again. The coming war would take many lives.

The couples did not retire to their tents until late into the evening. The only bit of trouble they had was undressing. They could not completely remove their upper clothing due to their bound hands. But that certainly didn't deter them or slow them down. Making love for the first time as man and wife moved them far more emotionally than they'd expected. When exhaustion overtook them they ended up having to spoon to sleep, with her head resting on his arm.

-BREAK EIGHT-

Come morning they broke their fast with the rest of the camp, and before long the keeper released the knots that held their hands bound together. She blessed the scarves and placed them in the hands of the new brides to be worn or protected as they saw fit. Their horses had been saddled and were waiting for them. Parting was a sweet sorrow. It was good to get back on path to fighting the blight, but at the same time, there was a sense of peace and acceptance here, something they would not likely find again anytime soon, except, perhaps, within their own League of Paladins. Most of which were misfits of one kind or another all coming together for a greater cause. But they vowed to return when they could.

Lyrica allowed Ninia to borrow her mount, at least until they reached Lothering where they would purchase another mount. On the way back, she named the wolf Fen. She did not consider him a pet. He was friend that could come and go as he pleased. She would never collar him. The choice to stay with her would always be his. She also started training under Bethany's watchful eye. In order for her to learn to control magic is by using it. She hated that. It felt like she was feeding it and it was growing, but she would be a danger to everyone if she couldn't control it. Maybe, if she'd never touched the Elder Tree's branch the magic in her would have forever stayed dormant…or maybe she'd always been a hidden danger, blissfully unaware that she could hurt someone.

Outside of Lothering's outskirts they saw a farmstead whose occupants were packed up and ready to leave. Two horses pulled the wagon and two were tied to its rear. The livestock was loosed to fend for themselves. Nothing could be done about them. They caught up to the farmer and his family just as they were rolling away from their home. "Wait! I noticed you were leaving three horses behind. Would you be willing to sell them?" She knew she could have waited until they left and just took them, but that didn't sit well with her.

The farmer's brows drew together as he studied the elf's face. "No need to pay us since we're leaving them behind. But I thank you kindly for the offer. You're welcome to anything you can catch. Better than them becoming food for the horde. You best move on quickly. The horde's been spotted just west of here. I imagine they'll be here in a couple of day's time. Most folk have already fled the area. We're heading north, got some family west of Amaranthine."

"Thank you, kind sir. Our party has grown and we are in need of horses. We'll be heading to Denerim soon ourselves. Stay safe and Creator's speed to you."

A dalish that did not hate humans. That was a novelty. So was seeing a dalish sitting on a man's lap. Weren't any of his business though. "There's rope and gear in the barn. Enough gear for two, you'll have to rope the third. Help yourself. The bay pony's name is Roy. The black mare is Bitch – you'll see why. And the blue roan mare is Jinx." He inclined his head to the group and slapped the horses' rumps with the reins.

When the wagon passed them they rode up the long drive, weaving through cows and pigs that did not seem to realize they were free. The horses pricked their ears as they approached and began to walk towards them. Horses, being social creatures, enjoyed the company of other horses, so they were drawn towards their mounts. The black mare was very striking. She had a black spotted white blanket covering her back and hind quarters. She had what looked like a white star between her eyes and a large white teardrop between her nostrils. The blue roan had a thin, jagged blaze that resembled a lightning bolt and the bay pony had an odd, white underbelly that asymmetrically faded into the brown as it crawled up its sides. Since the horses were following them, they led them into the barn. They roped the pony's halter and tied it to the back of Ninia's saddle. They learned fast how Bitch got her name. Bitch did not like being saddled. Or to be more exact, she mostly tolerated the saddle but she hated the bridle and she would lash out with teeth and hoof to keep it away from her.

Lyrica knew she could ride the animal without the gear, for that is the only way that halla were ridden. But they were not just wandering the wooded trails; she needed to have precise control, their lives might very well depend on it. She placed her fingers between the horse's teeth and opened her mouth. She expected to find an infected tooth, due to the pain she felt in the animal, but instead she found scars on the horses tongue. Someone had apparently used a harsh bit on her at some point in her life. It could be that the scar tissue was sensitive or maybe it was the memories themselves that pained the horse. The bit wasn't necessary, control of the head was. She unbuckled the bit and slipped it into her pocket. She then calmed the horse with a touch and eased the bridle onto her head.

Bitch stiffened as if expecting pain. She stuck out her tongue, pulled it back in and gnashed her teeth. Still no pain. She dropped her head and butted the elf gently.

Lyrica rubbed the mare's cheeks and then gave her neck a soothing scratch. "No more Bitch. You are now Falon…friend." She drew the reins over the horse's neck, grabbed the saddle and lifted her foot high to catch the stirrup. She swung up onto the mare's back. She was taller than her previous mount and it would take some getting used to with mounting and dismounting. She nodded to the others to let them know she was ready and they left the farmstead at a trot.

They headed into Lothering to make sure everyone was clearing out. Unlike the last time they were here, Lothering looked like a ghost town. Debris littered the ground as if the occupants had left in a hurry. They walked the horses slowly through town.

Neria rose when she heard the sounds of horses' hooves. She darted out of the small house waving her arms to get their attention. "It's not safe here! You need to leave before the horde arrives!"

Lyrica looked down at the dark blonde disheveled elf. Was she a slave or servant left behind to die? "Andaran atish'an. We are only here to be sure there was no one left behind. Come with us, we will take you to safety."

She shook her head. "I cannot go. I - I was one of the mages the Circle sent to Ostagar. I was injured, but I managed to make it here, to warn the town that the blight was coming. After they evacuated I found someone. Deathly still, but alive. I have tried for days to heal her, but magic seems to have no effect. I will not leave her. But you must go!"

"Then take us to her. We will bring her too." There was no way Lyrica was going to leave anyone behind to die.

Neria shook her head. "I do not know if she would survive the move. I do not know what ails her."

There was something…something that tickled at the edge of Gilmore's memory. "Beth and I will go back to the farmstead and see if we can find a wagon or something. I thought I saw something we might be able to have the pony pull."

Lyrica nodded. "Good idea, Gil."

"I'll go with," Ninia told them. "In case of trouble."

"Stay safe," Lyrica said with a nod. Bandits and darkspawn forward scouts were always a consideration. When the trio rode off, she turned to the elf. "I am Lyrica. That is my husband, Berchan. The other three were Gilmore, his wife Bethany and Ninia. Berchan, Gilmore and I are Grey Wardens. We are safe here for now. We'll be able to sense the darkspawn if they get too close. We won't let anything happen to either of you."

Neria had been quite young when the templars took her to the Circle, so she didn't care one way or the other about an elf marrying a human. But she'd seen some of the older elves at the Circle treat those who had bedded humans poorly. She'd had a crush on a human mage, but they'd never done anything more than flirt. "Andaran atish'an. I am Neria. You will want to dismount. We will enter here," she said pointing to the house at her right.

Lyrica lifted her leg over the Falon's neck and slid to the ground. She knelt down and cupped Fen's head. "Guard the horses. We will be right back." When she rose, her husband took her hand and they followed Neria into the small dwelling. Small was right, it was a one room shack. There was a pallet next to the bed. And on the bed lay black haired woman. Young. Deathly still. But her chest was slowly rising and falling. "I will see if I can reach her," she told Berchan.

She knelt down on the pallet and placed both of her hands on the woman's bare arm and closed her eyes. Dark swirled around her like a roiling fog. But all around her was power. She saw the face of a man, smiling. Black fog rolled over the picture, devouring it. She saw a knife slice out – cut into a forearm. Dark rolled over the picture. A letter written, signed Emalynd. The dark swallowed it. More pictures came, but they were taken by the dark before she could make sense of them. Screams echoed around her…fading. Then she saw something she didn't expect. A glow and in the protective glow was a woman pounding on the barrier to get her attention. Tendrils of dark licked across the glow as if trying to reach the woman within. She tried to move towards the woman but she could not move her feet. She looked down to see what was holding her in place. The dark was crawling up her legs. She fought its embrace, but the screams echoed in her head…hard to think…"

The last thing Berchan expected was for his wife to start screaming. His heart slammed in his chest. He tried to pull her away from the woman, but he'd nearly pulled the woman off the bed, so tight was her grasp on the woman's arm. He put his hands over hers and pried her fingers up until she released the woman's arm. He pulled her away from the woman and held her until she began to struggle. When he released his hold she frantically brushed at her legs as if trying to remove something.

She opened her eyes, her breath still coming in harsh gasps, but at least the screaming had fallen silent. She looked down at her legs, her hands stilling. No dark tendrils. She collapsed back against her husband, who held onto her with an iron grip, until her heart rate settled back into a more normal pace. "I think she was poisoned by the cut of a knife on her inner right forearm. Her name is Emalynd. She might be nobility. The dark…the dark was everywhere…devouring…everything – as if…as if it was eating away her memories." A ragged breath slipped from her lips. "She – she is trapped inside, protected by some sort of barrier…but I do not know how long it can hold out against the dark." She tapped his arm. "I am fine now, you can let me go."

He didn't want to let her go, but he did. "Please…do my heart a favor. Do not touch her again," he said softly.

Neria looked from one to the other, not at all understanding what just happened or how Lyrica knew anything. She took Emalynd's arm and turned it over to show them the scar. "I do not know how you knew about the wound, but the cut was infected when I found her. I was able to heal it with magic, but she would not awaken. What you saw…"

Lyrica frowned. "I have a… _gift_. I can communicate with animals and…people with a touch. The touch allowed me to see her memories, but they were disjointed and being…eaten by the dark. I don't know how else to explain it. Did she have a bump on her head? The only thing I can think of is amnesia. I have not heard of any poison that takes memories…but I think she is suffering from both."

Neria nodded. She did not know what to make of what the woman had told her, she had not heard of any such gifts at the Circle – but she did not seem to doubt anything she was saying. "There was a knot on the back of her head. She had fallen against the hearth – or at least that is where I found her. I healed the knot as well. So you believe the poison is killing her and the bump on her head is causing her memories to disappear?"

"I believe that to be true – yes. I also believe it is safe enough to move her. At least it is far safer to move her than stay here. Nothing can be done here. We are heading to our main camp. We will take you with us. There are quite a number of us; perhaps one of the others will know what can be done to help Emalynd. Please…please excuse me. I need some air."

She hurried out the door, walked a short bit and then came to a stop. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. The now dead town too heartbreaking to want to see. She didn't really like towns, but it had once been teaming with life –now…nothing was left but unwanted trash. She couldn't help but wonder if it would ever know life again. She heard the door close but didn't turn around. Heavy arms rested on her shoulders and crossed over the tops of her breasts as he pulled her back against him. "I never felt anything like that before. I never felt a _part_ of what I was feeling. But the dark was crawling up me. I couldn't move." She turned around in his arms and pressed her cheek against the cool metal of his armor. "Maybe her being a mage had something to do with it. Maybe her power was amplifying her terror. I don't know."

His arms tightened around her. He never wanted to feel like that again. He wouldn't try to stop her from using her gift; it was a part of who she was. But now he knew it for the danger it was and he would be more watchful. "I knew something was wrong. You were screaming and I was terrified for you. I didn't know what else to do besides pull you away from her."

She had been the one screaming? That was embarrassing. "I'm glad you did. I don't – I don't know what would have happened once the dark covered my head. Maybe I'd have come out of it. Or maybe…"

His hand lifted to cup the back of her head, holding her against him. "Shhh… Ar lath ma, vhenan. I don't wish to think of any other maybes. My heart couldn't take it, little one."

"Ar lath ma, vhenan. You will always know my love, mountain man."

He loosened his hold when he heard the distant rumble of horse hooves and wagon wheels coming over the stone bridge leading into Lothering. "It would appear they've found something."

They moved the horses to the other side of the small shack to give their friends room. As they approached they noticed the pony was now harnessed but still tied to Ninia's saddle. He was pulling a medium sized cart, the four wooden sides about a foot and a half high. It had no covering, so nothing would protect what was within from the weather, which was likely why they'd left it behind.

"Victorious!" Ninia said with a grin. "We've lined it with sack cloth and a few old horse blankets. It may not smell the sweetest, but it will keep her from getting splinters in her ass."

"You're up, mountain man. Go get her," she said, giving her husband a swat on his armored rump.

"I'll just point out that having another woman in my arms was your idea..." he teased.

She scowled at his back as he entered the small house. With a soft sigh she opened the door and held it open for them. Did he have to point that out? And now that he had, seeing him with the woman cradled against his chest brought a frown to her face. It wasn't like they had a choice. Due to his size he could carry her easier than anyone else. But still…it was not a sight she enjoyed seeing.

As soon as he settled her in the padded cart and tucked a blanket around her, she grabbed the top of his chestplate and yanked him down for a kiss. She scowled at his chuckle and marched off to get their horses. She brought them forward and then looked at the Circle robe Neria was wearing. That wasn't going to work. She withdrew her dagger. "Sorry, Neria, you need a wardrobe adjustment. We will get you more suitable armor back at camp. Are you ready for this?" At the woman's nod she ran the dagger from mid-thigh down the dress both in the front and back. "You can tuck the edges under your legs so the saddle doesn't irritate them. Do you know how to ride?"

She shook her head. "No, but I'll figure it out."

She motioned Neria to follow her and led her to the blue roan mare. "Her name is Jinx." At the raised eyebrow she laughed. "You can change it if you want, she won't care. Mine was named Bitch when we got her. I call her Falon now." She placed her hand on the saddle. "Grab the saddle here. Put your left foot in the stirrup like this and then pull yourself up and swing your right leg over her back." She mounted the horse and then reversed what she'd done to dismount. "Watching me mount Falon is an acrobatic marvel, she's far too large for me…but I wouldn't want to risk anyone else with her, she was called Bitch for a reason."

She moved aside and motioned for the other elf to mount. She nodded when she mounted with little difficulty. She swung up onto Falon's back. "We'll be going slower than normal due to the wagon, but it will give you plenty of time to learn how to ride. "You can hold the reins in either hand. Move your hand to the left if you want the horse to go left. Move it right to go right. You can hold onto the saddle with your other hand until you are more comfortable. Pull back on the reins if you want her to stop. Squeeze with your knees or tap her belly with the heels of your feet if you want her to go. You'll learn the rest through experience. You'll be sore for the first few days, but your muscles will get used to it."

He should never have teased her. He realized that too late. "Little one…."

She looked up at her husband with a frown. At least with a taller horse she did not have to look up quite so far. She yelped when he plucked her off her horse and settled her over his legs.

He wanted to drown in her beautiful golden sea-green eyes. "You are the only woman I want to hold in my arms."

"I better be," she said as she forced a grin. "Ir abelas, vhenan. I was jealous and I had no right to be. There wasn't any choice. I didn't realize how I would feel until I saw you with her." She shook her head. "It's…silly. Just forget about it."

His mouth captured hers with a love and hunger that only she could make him feel. He could hear the others moving out and he didn't care. Right now his wife had his undivided attention. He pulled back with a groan, wanting far more than they had time for. "I wouldn't have liked seeing you in another man's arms either. You have nothing to be sorry for. My jest was thoughtless. For that, I am sorry." He brushed his lips against hers and then settled her back onto her mount.

She winked at him when Falon reared and then prodded the horse into a run to catch up to the others. She smiled when she heard the heavy pounding of Stryker's hooves behind her. Stryker was a stunning animal, though very much a warrior's horse. He was tall and large boned with light feathering on all four white socks. He had a bright chestnut color and a striking flaxen tail and mane.

They skirted the rest of the group after they crossed the stone bridge and took the lead once more. It had been interesting getting to know Neria. And since the pace was slow there was plenty of time to do so. As a Circle mage, she'd spent very little time among elves. There were elves at the Circle, but most of them were like her. What they learned of elves and their language had been from books and some hadn't even bothered to do that. Being an elf wasn't their life, being a mage was. Neria, herself, had far more interest in the elven culture than most and since she hadn't been very interested in finding romantic partners she spent her free time learning what she could.

Lyrica told her about how she became a Grey Warden, what happened at the Tower of Ishal and how she'd met the unofficial king and queen of Ferelden. She then told her about the League of Paladins and the goals they had set for themselves. She didn't give specific details, as it was not her place to do so. But general details like building an army to fight the blight was enough. She told her about the people that made up their group, how they had come from all walks of life to unite against a common enemy.

Neria told her about what she could remember of her childhood, what life was like for her at the Circle. She missed her family, but did not miss the poverty they'd lived in. The Circle was a whole new way of life and she'd been able to learn far more there than she ever could have learned in the alienage. She told them about Ostagar and how she'd barely gotten away with her life.

One thing that drew Lyrica's attention was the fact that Neria looked a lot like Lanaya. She couldn't help but wonder if the two were related. She never did ask Lanaya what her last name was. But still… "Did you happen to know anyone by the name of Lanaya in the alienage?"

Why did that name sound familiar? "I don't think I ever - " Her eyes lit up. "I remember her…well, vaguely. She was a couple of years older than me. Her father and my father were brothers. We…we were cousins. I rarely saw her, maybe once a year. Her parents worked outside the alienage, though I can't remember what they did." She rubbed her head and frowned. "I don't think I saw her again after I turned five. I don't remember much of that time. Do you know her?"

Her story did seem to line up, but unless Lanaya remembered her last name, there was no way to tell for sure if they were the same Lanaya. "I don't know. I might. I know _a_ Lanaya. Her parents worked for a human merchant. There was a series of…unfortunate events and she ended up rescued by the Saoirse dalish clan. She is now first to the keeper. I will eventually get back out to see them; you are welcome to come with us, if you wish."

Family was everything. "Thank you! Uhh…ma serannas. It is worth going to see if your Lanaya is my cousin. I have not seen my family in years. If it is her, I'm sure my parents would be relieved to know she is okay. What happened to her parents?"

That was a tale she hoped Neria would not dig too deep in. It wasn't her tale to tell. "Ir abelas, lethalan. I'm sorry. They were killed when the caravan was attacked. That is why the dalish took her in when they found her."

"Ma serannas for telling me," she said in a somber tone. Even if her aunt and uncle were gone, it was good to know their fate.

-BREAK NINE-

It took them about two weeks to reach the outskirts of the main camp. Travel was slow, but because of that they did not have to take longer breaks to let the horses catch their wind. They were able to get Emalynd to drink some. It was a slow and tedious process, but eating was not something she was capable of doing. She was noticeably dropping weight and it had become a major concern.

As the approached the camp Taltos and Legion rushed out to greet them, though she suspected Lor was well aware of their arrival. What did surprise her was how easily the hounds took the wolf in. After no more than a curious sniff the three ran off to investigate the camp's grounds. They rode into camp, straight to the corral. They removed the tack, brushed down the horses and then greeted everyone who'd come to welcome them back.

There was already a crowd of people around Emalynd. She introduced Ninia, Neria and explained what she knew of Emalynd.

"I know something we can try." Leliana held up a tiny vial. "These are Andraste's ashes from the Urn of Sacred Ashes. They helped to heal Arl Eamon when he was poisoned. I _know_ they will help Emalynd too," she said fervently.

Lorianna nodded. "She's right. If she cannot be healed by magic then this is her only hope. Kadar – do you remember the healing spell?"

The woman, whatever she once was, had little meat left on her body. It looked like she hadn't eaten in weeks. "I do. In the condition she is in, we cannot tarry. Neria, please expose some skin for the ashes to touch."

Ashes? They were going to heal her with remains? No, it didn't matter. If it worked on someone else, then surely it would work on her too. She'd read about the Urn. It supposedly held magical properties to heal the sick and injured. She turned her arms to expose the undersides. She wasn't sure if the ashes touching the site of the wound would matter, but it couldn't hurt. She then unfastened her tunic and pushed it aside to expose her sunken belly and ribs. "I do not know if it matters, but that scar on her arm is where she was likely poisoned."

"I will sprinkle some there too," Leliana told her. She sprinkled a tiny bit of ashes over the scar and the rest liberally over her exposed front. She looked up at Kadar who nodded to her.

Lorianna touched her arm and then looked up at Kadar. "Let's do this."

Kadar raised his hand when he saw the golden glow of Lor's power. He began chanting the spell of healing used on the Arl over and over. He did not allow the glow that resonated from Emalynd to distract him. He would not stop until her eyes opened.

When she did not waken as quickly as the Arl had, the other mages in the group began chanting the spell to strengthen its power.

Emalynd woke, looking out through her barrier to see the dark tendrils writhing. She stood on shaky legs and pressed her face to the barrier to watch in wonder. What was happening? The dark was receding. It slid away from the barrier, stretching out towards her in a vain attempt to reach her again. When she could see no more signs of the dark she waited to see if it was trying to lure her out. She wasn't sure if she had the strength protect herself again if she released the barrier. After a few minutes dropped the barrier and felt a blinding rush as her consciousness surfaced. Her eyes flickered open and grew wide with alarm to find herself surrounded by strangers.

She struggled to move away from them, but her body betrayed her and she began to shake.

Lyrica laid a hand on her. "You are safe here with us. Your body is undernourished, that is why you are having a hard time moving. Do you remember what happened?"

"No, I-" Emalynd struggled to remember what had happened, but there was nothing there. "I don't-" Her throat was dry and the words were scratchy and uncomfortable. She weakly raised a hand to her throat.

Lorianna removed her skin of water from her belt, lifted the woman's head and held the skin to her lips. The poor girl drank greedily as if nothing would ever slake her thirst. When she eventually, weakly pushed her hand away she capped the skin and tied it back onto her belt.

"Do not be alarmed," Kadar told the woman. "I'm going to help you rise to a seated position." At her nod he gently gripped her below her armpits and settled her against the back of the cart.

"Do not worry about your memories right now," Neria told her. "When I found you, you had hit your head on the hearth. The memories should return in time. At least we think they will. What's important is for you to eat and regain your strength."

"Grab her some stew – or at least the broth," Lorianna told her husband. "We need to make sure she can hold it down before offering her anything more substantial."

Kale grabbed a wooden bowl and scooped out some of the liquid. He returned to the cart and handed the bowl to the woman. He watched as she brought the bowl to her lips and began to drink. Her sips were small, apparently she knew enough not to down it too quickly.

The heat of the thick broth warmed her belly and filled her with a much needed strength. She set the nearly empty bowl next to her. "I – I want to stand."

Kadar nodded. He could understand her need to move and use her muscles. He bent over the cart, slipped his arms under her and lifted her out of the cart. He lowered her to her feet, but kept hold of her while she regained her sense of balance.

She gripped the giant, horned man's arm. She knew she lost muscle; her arms were thinner than they should have been. Her body shook, but held her weight. He helped her over to the main campfire and settled her on one of the logs surrounding it. "Thank you," she said. She was exhausted from the small journey and knew it would take time to build her muscles back up. Still, it felt good to move.

Everyone settled around the fire. They introduced themselves to the three new people. Kael explained what had happened concerning the Urn and Redcliff. Then Elvie took over and told what happened at Kinloch Hold.

Neria had been horrified to find out what Jowan and Uldred had done. She'd never much cared for Uldred and was glad to see know that they'd been able to stop his madness. She was disappointed in Jowan, but it seemed that he was doing what he could to make amends for what he'd done. It warmed her heart to see Elvie again and it was more than obvious her dearest friend was glad she'd not been at the Circle. Wynne, too, was a sight for sore eyes. It appeared that quite a few of the mages had survived Ostagar only to return home and face another hell. She wondered if the Circle would ever be the same. But how could it? So many of the people she knew were dead. If she returned, it would be to a new Circle, not the Circle she knew. But for now, she didn't want to return. "I'm not going back to the Circle. I was sent to fight the darkspawn and I will remain with you to do so."

Lorianna grinned. "Then welcome to my League of Paladins. Now," she said as she settled her gaze on Lyrica, "we are all eagerly waiting to hear what happened with the dalish."

Lyrica nodded and proceeded to tell everything that happened. She told them meeting Zathrian, finding out about the werewolf curse, and having to go deeper into the forest to find the cure. She explained about the forest being inhabited with spirits and how that occurred, as well as who Zathrian actually was and what he'd done to start the curse. She told them about the weres that had helped them, what had happened to lift the curse and how her friend had become the new keeper who had agreed to uphold the treaty that had been signed with the Grey Wardens. She told Wynne about meeting Aneirin in the forest and he was glad she was doing well. And how he'd told them that she'd taught him more than she knew. Finally, she told them about the weddings that had taken place at the dalish camp. To bring things full circle she told them about the farmstead outside of Lothering and how they'd met Neria and Emalynd.

Emalynd was floored by all she'd heard. Everything these people had gone through to build a new army to fight the blight. It was obvious that this group of people cared about each other a great deal. She wondered if there was anyone she cared about in her past. All she could remember was that she was a mage. She knew a great number of spells and her name, but little else. "I do not remember much about my past, but I know I can have no future unless the blight is defeated. I am a mage and I will lend my skills to your fight. Both for the throne and for Ferelden."

"Thank you," Lorianna told her. "You are welcome as a Paladin. It would appear we are becoming a small army in our own right," she said with a grin. "We are still waiting for a final group of friends to return from Orzammar. We will remain at camp until they do. It will give you some time to regain your strength. There are two free tents here and one at the back of the camp for now. Once our friends return we might have to do a bit of tent shuffling."

"I will take the far one for now," Emalynd said with a tight smile. "I will be forced to walk further and I need that to rebuild lost muscle."

Lorianna smiled warmly. "That tent was Morrigan's…just don't be reclusive. You are a part of us and we want the chance to be with you."

She inclined her head to the future queen. "That is kind of you to say. I don't know what I was like before, but the thought of being alone is not appealing."

A few day and plenty of hearty meals later, Emalynd was feeling much better. Her body no longer shook when moved it. She was far from being in top shape, but she was on the road to getting there. In the mornings Lor led a group in a workout that incorporated some odd fighting moves. Each day she was able to a bit more before she had to rest and just watch. It was also obvious that much of the camp had partnered up, either they were married or just needed someone to connect with during these harrowing times.

She found herself spending more time with Wynne, Jowan, Neria, Ninia, Alistair and Angelia, because either their partner wasn't here or they had no significant other. She had no idea if there was anyone special in her life. So far, her memories had not returned – at least nothing significant. Snippets, like being in a vast garden or riding a white horse, but no faces…nothing that really showed her who she was. But those snippets were a start. And while she'd love to have someone hold her at night, she wasn't willing to do so until she knew there was no one else.

She liked this group. It was interesting that so many good people had managed to find each other to right the wrongs Ferelden was suffering under. The only person that wasn't all that likable was the qunari, Sten. He only talked with a few of the group, but he seemed to be a different man when he was with Elvie. He would smile and laugh and act like a normal person. She'd even caught him playing with the dogs. It was as if he was purposely trying to make sure he did not become attached to most of the people in their group. She shrugged. Maybe it was a qunari thing.

The one thing she'd had to get used to was the lack of modesty. She supposed it couldn't be avoided in a cramped camp, but it had still been a shock to see couples making love, bathing and using the trenches together. Modesty aside, she was enjoying their close-knit atmosphere.

A week later, the remaining party members returned and excitement was in the air.

-Note-

Vows BY:VIR-GHILANI


	9. A Thedas Tale Ch9 - Orzammar

Dragon Age

A Thedas Tale

Ch 9 – Orzammar

"Going home isn't going to be easy for you, is it?" Tayln asked as he poked the campfire's embers. Going home wouldn't be easy for him either, but he'd not been exiled from his people. He couldn't imagine what she must be feeling. They were only two days in and he could see the strain on her face.

Syn looked over at the pretty elf. "No. My name has been stricken. I am a surface…a casteless. I am next to nothing to them now. I probably should have let someone else go in my stead, but I know Orzammar. I know its politics. I know it bowels. And I still have friends there – though they will only be able to meet with me behind closed doors. Still, that is an _in_ that another would not have had. My brother may have orchestrated my fall perfectly, but he will come to regret that choice. I cannot openly kill him for his treachery, but one way or another – he will fall before me. And when he does, I have to wonder if I will be able to show more mercy than he did."

Morrigan frowned. If anyone betrayed her in such a way they would be writhing in agony begging her to end their life…and she would laugh. "He deserves the same mercy he showed you. None, I say. What will he do? I wonder. When he is bowed at your feet. Will he beg for his life? Or beg you to end it? Or will he face death bravely as befitting his station? I believe he will beg for his life, tell you whatever fancies you wish to hear and then stab you in the back the first chance he gets. No, his kind deserves no mercy."

Tayln nodded. Normally, he would try to get her to rethink her cold, bitter words. And he had to admit she was slowly coming around to showing more compassion. But this time he agreed with her. "She's right, Syn. He will not willingly give up his stolen throne. So long as he lives he will destroy anyone that threatens his position. It is said - fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Do not let him fool you again. Once he knows you are alive, he will come after you. You won't be safe until he's dead."

Morrigan's lips curled up into a smile full of heated promise. He didn't talk like that often but when he did, fires of desire swept through her. Because there were only the three of them, they could not leave camp for privacy. It was not safe to leave anyone alone. But it was something she'd had to get used to. She rose and held out her hand. "Come. I am cold. I need your heat."

Syn looked away as the couple undressed and slipped under their blankets. But the soft moans drew her attention. It was obvious what Tayln was going to be doing as his head disappeared under the blanket, slowly moving lower. She squeezed her thighs together to try to ease the ache. It had been too long since she'd had a man and unless they decided to invite her all she could do was watch. As the moans grew harsher and more intense she slipped under her own blanket to ease the ache in the only way she could. The sounds of wet licking and lusty, soft cries pushed her over the edge a moment after Morrigan found her own release.

She released a slow, shaky breath. The climax had been sweet, but it was not enough. It did not quell the ache. The sounds of the couple's lovemaking intensified. She stroked herself in time with the sounds of his thrusts until she tumbled over the edge again. She removed her hand from her pants with a sigh. She missed Gorim. She wasn't in love with her second, but he had been more than willing to be the man to satisfy her near insatiable needs without complaint. She enjoyed sex…a lot of sex and she did not like having to do without. The next town they came to she would find someone to ease her, even if she had to settle for a woman. She'd never been with a woman…didn't particularly want to be with one, but right now she didn't much care. She needed more than she could give herself. She drifted to sleep with the sounds of love in her ears.

She was up early to hunt for breakfast. She came back with a pheasant and six eggs. Thank goodness the birds nested twice a year in this area. Morrigan was at the fire. Tayln must have stepped away to find a bush.

"You were watching last night," Morrigan teased with a grin.

She sat down next to the fire and began to pluck the hen. "I was for a bit, yes. He is beautiful and I've been far too long without sex. I don't suppose you'd be willing to share him?" It didn't hurt to ask.

Morrigan laughed. She had been about to say she that she didn't care what he did, but she could not force the words out. And that bothered her. "I would not," she admitted. "Even if he was so inclined."

Tayln stepped into the clearing. He couldn't help overhearing what they were talking about. While he was flattered, it was out of the question. "Which he's not," he said as he settled down next to Morrigan. "Sorry, Syn. You're a beautiful woman and I'm flattered, but I have all the woman I need." That had earned him a freely given kiss and he grinned.

Syn shrugged. "It was worth a try. That being the said, the next town we come to we'll be staying the night. I just need to find someone who can keep up with me. I'm in need of a hard night of loving."

Tayln grinned and shook his head. That was something he'd expect a man to say, not a woman. "I would love to sleep in a bed for a change." Syn really was beautiful and he didn't even have to say for a dwarf. She was beautiful for any woman. She wasn't bulky or broad in any way. She had dainty, fine features, rather than the more coarse features most dwarves had. Her blue eyes were also large and expressive, not pinched or small. She had a petite, hourglass figure that would interest most men. He had little doubt she'd find companionship without even trying.

She gutted the bare bird and threw the innards into the fire. Too bad the dogs weren't here; they'd have enjoyed the treat. She poked a stick through the bird and set it on the forked branches over the flames. Since there was no creek nearby to wash up, she had to use some of the water from her waterskin.

Tayln leaned into Morrigan. "You look amazing in that armor Lor picked out for you," he murmured in her ear.

It was a lightly armored tunic that molded to her figure, with form fitted, lightly armored pants. Gold, stylized trim made her feel like a fancy noble. Much like the golden mirror her mother had destroyed when she was a child. Her mother would probably rip the armor off of her and that thought brought a smile to her lips. "Mother would be furious; that thought warms me inside. But…you have my thanks, Tayln."

After breakfast they doused the fire and packed up. They gave the horses their heads and enjoyed the faster clip until they came to a dry-gulch. She pulled up and scanned the high ground. "I don't like this," she muttered and then looked back the way they'd come. It would take them too long to skirt the gulch. "I suppose we don't have much choice, just keep your eyes open." Maybe she was just being paranoid. She was used to either having stone over her head or relatively flat ground. This made her uneasy. They continued forward until they saw a woman running in their direction waving her arms. They pulled up when they reached her.

She noticed the Grey Warden armor the elf had on. It was not the man and woman they were looking for, but there was still a bounty on Grey Wardens. "Oh, thank the maker! We need help! They attacked the wagon. Please, help us! Follow me! I'll take you to them." She waved them to follow her as she turned around and ran back in the direction she came from.

Syn pursed her lips. "We have little choice. We need to cross through. But there was something in her eyes I've seen too many times. Leave the horses here. I don't like this." Syn raised her leg over the horse's neck and slid down, her knees bending with the impact. She needed help to mount, but she was a pro at getting down now. She'd been working on getting the horse to lean down for her, but that still needed some work. Ok, a lot of work.

As they followed the woman they could see an overturned wagon in the distance and a dead ox. It reminded her of finding her brother Trian's body. She shook her head. She was being ridiculous. The woman came to a stop before a well armed elf. Was he a bandit? If so, why didn't the woman run away from him? The elf raised his hand and others stepped out from places of concealment. She pulled her bow off her shoulder but kept it lowered until she knew for sure this was an ambush.

As people filed up onto the high embankments, she turned in time to see a massive, dead tree falling and dodged out of the way.

"The Grey Warden dies here!" Zevran shouted as he pulled his sword and dagger from their sheaths.

"A dozen to three – piece of cake!" Syn exclaimed with a grin. As her arrows began to fly to the upper embankment on the left. "Tayln! Take care of the idiots down here. Morrigan and I will deal with the high ground. Morrigan – right side!" she yelled when she saw an arrow flying straight at the mage from the right. She turned and shot an arrow at it, the two slammed into each other and shattered. She returned her attention back to the left embankment. Right now she could kiss Sandal for enchanting her quiver. No, right now would not be a very good idea. She was too horny and he was too innocent. Later…yes…later.

When the four on the embankment went down she turned her attention to the attackers on the ground. Tayln was a marvel to watch. He was quick on his feet and agile as sin. Those lessons with Lor were improving the way he moved. She watched him swing around and bash the pommel of his sword into the elf's head and he went down like a ton of stone. She noticed Morrigan had taken down her men and had joined them for the ground massacre.

She rolled to the side to avoid an oncoming arrow and shot an arrow at an archer hiding behind the wagon. She felt a wave of rejuvenation and grinned. Morrigan 'I'm not a healer' was indeed getting better at it. When the archer popped back into sight, her arrow made sure he wouldn't get back up. He dropped to his knees and fell forward, his weight forcing the arrow out through the back of his skull. Nice.

She scanned the area, but the gulch was silent. That is until she heard a groan. She followed the groans to the downed elf. She prodded him with the toe of her boot. He blinked and slowly raised himself onto his elbows. He looked up at them but remained on the ground. Damn. Did he have to be pretty too? He wasn't Tayln pretty, but still…

He looked up at the three in front of him. A dwarf, an elf and a human. You didn't see that every day. How was it he was even still alive? He reached up to feel the knot on his head and winced. "I rather thought I would wake up dead. Or not wake up at all, as the case may be. But I see you haven't killed me yet."

She tilted her head. "If I killed you I would learn nothing. That would not be very practical, would it?"

So the pretty dwarf wanted answers. Better than a knife in the belly any day. "Ah! So I am to be interrogated? Let me save you some time. My name is Zevran. Zev to my friends. Please, call me Zev – a friend is less likely to kill me, no? I am a member of the Antivan Crows, brought here for the sole purpose of slaying the Teyrn and Teryna of Denerim, failing that, any Grey Wardens I can find. Which I have failed at, sadly."

Perhaps he thought talking would spare him. That would depend on what he told her. "Who hired you?"

"A rather taciturn fellow in the capital. Loghain, I think his name was? Yes, that's it."

Loghain, of course. Little surprise that. How much were Kael and Lor worth to Loghain? Not important, but she was curious. "How much were you paid to kill the rightful king and queen?"

Royalty? The Crows would not be happy learning about that. "King and queen? That we didn't know. That would have been worth far more. But to answer your question, I wasn't paid anything. The Crows, on the other hand, were paid quite handsomely. Or so I understand. Which does make me about as poor as a chantry mouse, come to think of it. Being an Antivan Crow isn't for the ambitious, to be perfectly honest."

She arched a brow. "Okay, I'll bite. Then why are you a Crow?"

"Well, aside from a distinct lack of ambition I suppose it's because I wasn't given much of a choice. The Crows bought me young. I was a bargain, too, or so I'm led to believe. But don't let my sad story influence you. The Crows aren't so bad. They keep one well supplied: wine, women, men…whatever you happen to fancy. Though the whole severance package is garbage, let me tell you. If you were considering joining, I'd really think twice about it."

He certainly liked to hear himself talk. No matter, he had a nice voice. "Why thank you, I shall certainly take that under advisement." She had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing. From Princess to assassin, oh how the mighty have fallen. But being supplied with willing men was rather appealing right about now.

"You seem like bright girl and you are very beautiful. I'm sure you've other options."

Again, she just wanted to laugh. If only he knew the truth. "I am very pleased that you have been so forthcoming."

Silence when his life was on the line? Not likely. "Ha! And why not? I wasn't paid for silence. Not that I offered it for sale, precisely."

Interesting. Didn't assassins have protocols? "Aren't you supposed to be loyal to your employer?"

He pursed his lips. "Loyalty is an interesting concept. If you wish, and you're done interrogating me, we can discuss it further," he told her.

An interesting concept…this she had to hear. "Please, continue."

"Well, here's the thing. If I failed to kill you, my life is forfeit. That's how it works. If you don't kill me, the Crows will. Thing is…I like living. And you obviously are the sort to give the Crows pause. So let me serve you, instead."

" _If_ you failed?" she asked with a tilt of her head.

He chuckled. "What can I say, I'm an eternal optimist. Although the chances of succeeding at this point seem a bit slim, don't they?" he asked with a laugh. "No, I don't suppose you'd find that funny, would you?"

Her lips tightened to keep from grinning. Actually, she did. She crossed her arms under her ample breasts. "Can I expect the same Loyalty you have given Loghain?"

"I happen to be a very loyal person. Up until the point where someone expects me to die for failing. That's not a fault, really, is it? I mean, unless you're the sort who would do the same thing. In which case I…don't come very well recommended, I suppose."

"And how do I know you aren't just biding your time to finish the job later?" That was a major concern, especially since they'd eventually be joining up with the people that were at the top of his death list.

"To be perfectly honest, I was never given much of a choice regarding joining the Crows. They bought me on the slave market when I was a child. I think I've paid my debt back to them…plus tenfold. Even if I did kill you now, they might kill me on principle for failing the first time. So my odds of surviving are rather slim, you see. The only way out, however, is to sign up with someone they can't touch. That would be you, my dear."

He was wily, that one. "Wouldn't they just come after you?"

"Possibly. I happen to know their scheming ways. I can protect myself as well as you. Not that you seem to need much help. But, there it is."

She tapped her foot on the ground. "And just what would you expect in return if I allowed you to join us?"

He looked down at her small foot and then slowly raked his gaze back up her voluptuous body to her sparkling blue eyes. "Well…let's see. Being allowed to live would be nice, and would make me marginally more useful to you. And somewhere down the line if you should decide that you no longer have need of me, then I go on my way. Until then, I am yours. Is that fair?"

"Perhaps," she said hesitantly. "But why do we need your services?"

"Why? Because I'm skilled at many things, from fighting to stealth and picking locks. I could warn you should the Antivan Crows attempt something more…sophisticated…now that my attempts have failed. I could also stand around and look pretty, if you prefer. Warm your bed? Fend off unwanted suitors? No?"

She laughed. Did he have to say that? Now of all times? "Is this before or after I feel the kiss of your dagger?"

He smiled and shook his head. "Tsk. Tsk. These things you say, they must drive the men back home simply wild! So what will it be? I'll even shine armor. You won't find a better deal, I promise."

A promise from an assassin was hardly reassuring. But he was pretty. Damn. If she allowed him to stay…for now, at least she would be able to keep an eye on him.

"Syn…think about what you are doing and… _why_." The man had blatantly said he'd warm her bed and he knew she was frustrated right now. "You _know_ what is at stake."

Morrigan placed a hand on his arm. "Let Syn have her fun, Tayln. It's not as though we cannot kill him if he proves to be bothersome. I, for one, find him amusing. But I would examine your food and drink more closely, were I you."

"That's excellent advice for anyone," Zevran said with a nod.

She rolled her eyes over the assassin's words. "I know what's at stake, Tayln. It is said that you should keep your friends close and your enemies closer. I would rather know what he was up to then be caught with my pants down."

Zevran chuckled. "Might I point out that there are certain advantages to being caught with your pants down? I would be more than willing to demonstrate the possibilities if you doubt me."

She groaned. "You're incorrigible, you know that, right?"

"That is one of my many, fine qualities. Perhaps, you will allow me to show you a few more," he teased.

She released a harsh breath and helped him to his feet.

He inclined his head to her. "I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you, until such a time as you choose to release me from it. I am your man, without reservation…this I swear."

Well, that sounded sincere. Time would tell what an assassin's oath was worth. They checked to see if there were any more survivors, but there were none. She whistled for the horses. "I suppose, for now, you can ride Lovey with me. Just beware her lips or she will cover you with sloppy kisses." The horse loved to lip anything within reach. Since she couldn't see around him, she'd have to trust him at her back.

-BREAK ONE-

It was obvious she wouldn't be able to mount without assistance. "Allow me," he said with a grin as he picked her up and settled her in the saddle. When she took the reins and scooted forward he mounted behind her. His arms slipped around her waist, nestled under her large bosom. It would appear there were perks to this riding arrangement. As they skirted the downed wagon and continued through the gulch he leaned in. "You have a remarkably inspirational name," he murmured in her ear.

She shivered. "Syn? Ahh…," she said, understanding his implication, "it is spelled S-y-n, not s-i-n," she informed him.

He chuckled. "Spelling aside, it still brings rather wicked thoughts to mind," he said with a smirk. "Do you have wicked thoughts…Syn? If not, might I persuade you to consider a few?"

Oh…he was a naughty one. "Zevran, are you trying to seduce me?" she asked with a grin.

"If you have to ask, then it would appear I'm failing at my endeavors rather spectacularly. Perhaps, you are a woman of romance then?" he inquired, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. "Shall I recite romantic poems of your beauty? Ply you with expensive wines and sweet smelling flowers?"

Laughter bubbled out of her. She didn't mean it to. But thoughts of romantic gestures were grand, but what she really wanted to do was throw him on the ground and ride him until she passed out from exhaustion. Romance was hardly needed right now. "Romance…I have never experienced romance," she admitted. "A dwarf's idea of romance is 'Come to my place and I'll grease up the bronto.'"

Zevran winced. That was truly shameful and not in a good way. "Did you hit him?"

"Ha! He would have considered that foreplay." Granted, Gorim hadn't been quite that bad, but he didn't need to proposition her. Gorim was actually the only man she'd been with. She liked sex, but she did not spread her favors about. This…having to find someone was new to her. Still…did she really want to touch someone who'd obviously been with so many?

He shook his head. "Tsk. Tsk. It is a wonder that any dwarves are birthed at all. In Antiva, women are accustomed to being showered with the praise they deserve. Men should worship you at your feet when you pass."

She chuckled. "So do you intend to worship my feet?"

"A man must start some place. From the feet, he can only work his way up. Is that not so?" he asked with a quirk of a brow.

Another shiver raced down her spine and she had to force herself not to lean back against him. "I – I cannot do this right now," she said tightly. "Later…tomorrow. I'll be able to do this tomorrow, not now."

"But you are doing so well!" Her words made little sense.

It was obvious the man was too much for Syn to deal with right now. Her words were clear on that. "Zevran," Tayln said as he pulled up next to them, "Get onto my horse."

He looked over at the very pretty man. "Why? You wish me to flirt with you? You may be pretty, to be sure, but I prefer to…wallow in Syn," he teased with a grin.

Tayln's brows drew together. "That is not what I meant. Syn…is not ready for the likes of you. Give her the night she needs. I'm sure she will be able to banter with you tomorrow…just not today."

He blinked. "That makes little sense." His grip tightened on her waist. "Were you not enjoying our discussion?" he asked her.

She waved her hand at her friend. "It's okay, Tayln. We'll be should be reaching Northton soon, according to the last sign we passed."

Tayln frowned but inclined his head to her and slowed his horse to settle back in next to Morrigan.

"Will you tell me what is going on?" he asked curious as to her change in demeanor.

It was nothing she could keep secret if he was to be traveling with them. "I like sex. A lot."

He grinned. That was more like it. "What a coincidence, so do I. I do not see a problem here. We will get along famously, you and I!"

"Zev – I don't just like sex…I need it. A lot," she admitted.

He chuckled. "I still do not see a problem."

No, she didn't suppose he would see it as a problem. "Look – I've only ever been with one man. We weren't married or in love, but we were true to each other. We were…separated and I have been without for quite some time. Finding someone to…to…I don't know how to do that," she said with a shake of her head. "But I will find someone in Northton, to take care of my…needs and then I will be able to…to banter with you tomorrow." There…she'd told him.

He frowned. Why would she find someone else over him? Did she prefer only bedding dwarves? She did not have the proper experience required to determine such a thing. Perhaps he could change her mind. "You do recall that I said I would warm your bed? I was rather looking forward to that, myself." His voice dropped down low. "I can assure you – you will very much like what I am capable of. I could make your body sing, my dear…I promise you that."

She groaned. He didn't understand. How could he? He didn't know all of it. "Zev – I was raised a princess. You…sleep around. You are not…monogamous. What I'm saying is that we are either one and done, like I would find at Northton or you will bed no others while you are bedding me. When either of us wants to move on, then we will do so, there is no going back. Do you understand my hesitation now?"

A princess? A strong, beautiful, sassy princess that enjoyed shedding blood and having lots of sex. What a woman she was. But what she said was true…he'd never been monogamous before, there had been no need. He never stayed in one place long. His life was built on, as she so eloquently stated, one and done. And he was content with that. But unlike his past experiences it looked as though he would be here for awhile. "If I recall, you _did_ say you needed a lot of sex, yes? While I am quite good, I doubt even _I_ would have the strength to pleasure another in such a case."

"So…you are accepting of my terms?" she asked cautiously.

In truth he had little choice. She had spared his life and he told her he'd warm her bed, he'd even given an oath that he would be her man until such a time as she released him. But he did not consider it a gilded cage, because she'd told him he could end their sexual…proclivities whenever he wanted. "It would seem I am content with your terms. To be honest, I and am rather looking forward to consummating our…arrangement. You see, I fancy beauty and strength…things that are dangerous and exciting. In truth, I quite fancy you," he admitted.

She laughed. "It would be awkward to bed me if you didn't," she pointed out.

He nodded his agreement. "This is true. And I very much wish to bed you."

She allowed herself to relax back against him. "And I very much wish to be bedded."

A smile spread across his lips. "See? We are already getting along famously! Now that that is settled, are you willing to tell me where we are going?"

"We are going to Orzammar. I have two goals: raise hell and use the Grey Warden treaty to press Orzammar into sending an army to fight the bight."

His brows drew together in confusion. "While I am all for raising hell, would that not be counterproductive to gaining their aid?"

"It would," she admitted. "But there is more to the story and some debts can only be paid in blood." She told him what her younger brother Bhelen had done to his two older siblings so that he could steal the throne. "It is _I_ that would have been put forth as the next in line for the throne. I was father's favorite, his successor. And he knew Trian would not be well accepted. So Bhelen had to take us both out – only I survived the Deep Roads. If he knows this, then he also knows I will eventually come for him. If he doesn't, then he will find out soon enough. I cannot outright kill him, but I _can_ do whatever it takes to make sure the throne is never his. I am looking forward to it."

"And _that_ is why I fancy you, my dear. One of them, in any case. Your talk of deception and revenge is an enticing aphrodisiac. "

She laughed softly as she looked back at him. "You truly are incorrigible."

"Naturally," he teased, his eyes dropping to her full lips. When they parted and her tongue peeked out to moisten them he groaned and lowered his head to have a taste of what was to come. Her heated response would have brought him to his knees were he standing. He quickly became uncomfortably aware that armor was not made for arousal. "Perhaps I should have waited, yes?"

Tayln looked at Morrigan and shook his head. "That gives keeping your enemies closer a new meaning."

"'Tis odd, no? I cannot fathom her choice in playthings." She shrugged. "Perhaps, she finds flirting with death appealing? I would look elsewhere, were I her."

"And so you have," he agreed.

"I happen to admire pretty things…much to mother's disapproval."

He looked over at her. "Is that all I am to you – a pretty thing to toy with?" he teased, though the smile did not quite reach his eyes.

Her eyes narrowed on him. "I have never implied anything else," she said, her tone growing cool. "Do you have issue with that?"

He forced himself to grin. "Not in the slightest. You cannot use the willing." He looked away to scan their surroundings. "Look - We're here!" he said, pointing to the sprawling town. "I can't wait to sleep in a real bed again."

She frowned. Why did his words bother her? Surely, she did not want him to have an issue with her disregard? She shook her head. He meant nothing to her, right? Naught but a shiny, pretty bauble to play with. But why did that sound the lie, even in her own mind? What was wrong with her? Maybe she needed time away from him. Yes, time away…that is what she needed to put everything back into proper perspective.

They stabled their horses and took rooms at the inn. Tayln blinked when he saw Morrigan get her own room. So that was the way of it. Was this her way of putting him in his place? Or ending things with him? So be it. He had no intension of begging for her favor. Maybe it was for the best. He was nothing to her. That fact stung, but that was his problem, not hers. He went to his room to set down his gear and then went down to order dinner to be sent to his room. He was not in a mood to see her right now, not after her cool rebuff and purchasing her own room. He returned to his room and pulled off his armor and his underarmor shirt. He grabbed a rag from his pack and cleaned his armor as best he could.

He was nearly finished with his chore when there was a knock at the door. He could smell the scent of food through the door. Food he didn't have kill, skin and cook. He was looking forward to it. He opened the door and saw a pretty, human woman with a tray in her hands.

Her smile widened when she saw the beautiful, muscled elf. "Ooh…you're a pretty one. Name's Macy. You gonna let me in to set your supper down?"

"Of course," he stepped away from the door to let her through. He noticed she'd kicked the door closed with her foot.

She flounced into the room with a shake of her hips and settled the tray on a small table. "Is there anything else I can do for you, handsome? Anything at all?" She drew her hand down his chest. "I have a few minutes right now…" her hand slipped lower and she stroked him through his pants.

He didn't want her touch, he wanted to step away. It was Morrigan he wanted, but she didn't want him. He was nothing more than a diversion to her. Convenient sex. And he'd let himself fall for her. A foolish, foolish thing to do. And she'd made that abundantly clear. That was why he did not move away from her touch.

She grinned when he responded to her. She had never touched a more beautiful man. And she was willing to take anything he'd give her. "Now look what I've gone and done, I couldn't possibly leave you in such a state of need." She lowered herself to her knees and untied his breeches. The flap fell and she moaned at the sight of his beautiful rod. "Everything about you is beautiful," she murmured. "Just a small taste now…" she crooned, her tongue slid along the underside of his arousal from base to tip. His groan was all the encouragement she needed.

Her tongue flicked and teased every inch of him. She knew just the places to hit to give him the most pleasure and his body began to tremble with the need to feel the heat of her mouth surrounding him. "Macy…" he groaned. He expelled a harsh breath when she took him into her mouth. "Yes…so sweet." His toes curled when he slid down her throat. He hadn't even known that was possible. He cried out when she swallowed around him. Her moans sent vibrations of pleasure through him. His hand slid through her hair to cup her head, but he did not grip her tightly. He wanted her to be able to pull back if she needed to as he began to slowly thrust. It was not as good as making love, but it was a unique feel and he doubted he'd ever feel such again.

As the pleasure built up inside him his thrusts became more urgent. One of her hands caressed his testicles while the other slid over his belly and chest, her nails raking tantalizing across his skin. Just as he teetered on the edge she swallowed repeatedly and tightened around him with a suction that sent him over with a harsh cry. Her suction didn't stop until he was spent and he slid slowly from her lips with a pop.

When she rose to her feet and leaned into him, he obliged her with a kiss. "That is an amazing talent you have, Macy."

She grinned. "That is a small taste of what I'll give you when I get off work. Enjoy your supper, handsome…tonight…dessert is on me." She winked at him and slipped out the door. She was so wet and achy for him; the next few hours were going to be torture.

He poured water from a pitcher into a bowl, washed himself off and then tied his britches. While he could not regret the pleasurable experience, a powerful guilt welled inside him. No! damn it. It had been her choice to reject him, she'd made it plain that he was nothing to her; he had nothing to feel guilty about. Still, the guilt remained. Guilt because he loved Morrigan. But she'd always been quite clear she thought love was foolish, so he'd never told her. Regardless of the ridiculous guilt he felt, he _would_ bed Macy tonight. He pulled up a chair to enjoy his supper.

Morrigan looked out the window into the night as she slowly at her supper. She'd waited for some time for him to come downstairs to eat with her, but he never came. After three glasses of wine she finally ordered supper. She knew she had to eat, she'd drunk too much wine, but the food did not taste as good as it should have. Regardless, she forced it down. She'd been used to being alone, but he wouldn't let her be. He'd forced her to endure his presence…to come to like him. He has always been at her side, she'd grown accustomed to it and now…now she was alone again and it didn't sit well with her. Damn his hide, he'd made her miss him. Stupid, foolish girl! Her mother's scolding words reverberated in her head. She raised her hands to forehead and rubbed it. Get out of my head, mother! You cast me away and I am free now! She dropped coins onto the table to pay for her meal and went up to her room.

Even here she was alone. She found herself missing the sounds of people talking, the sounds of camp. Even though her tent was away from the others, there had never been silence. She even found herself missing the incessant barking of those filthy beasts. She sat down on a chair and looked into the mirror. What was happening to her? She studied the reflection of her face. Did she look different? Was that a softening she saw around her eyes and lips? Her hand tightened into a fist and she slammed it onto the desk. Emotions she never wanted whirled through her. The wine…it had to be the wine. She needed sleep.

She rose from the vanity and removed her light armor before she drew back the covers and slid into the cold, empty bed. It would warm up soon. She closed her eyes but sleep evaded her. She missed their quiet talks in bed. She missed the feel of his arms around her. Stupid girl! Quiet mother! When was she going to stop being Flemeth's daughter and start being just Morrigan? Flemeth taught her that love was foolish. She taught her that wanting pretty thing made you weak. She taught her that men were to be used up until they had nothing more to give, then move onto the next. She had not been able to bring herself to do that. She had pretty things now, small baubles that Tayln had bought from the merchant, her armor…she's made sure they didn't weaken her. But the others in their camp…they loved…they had pretty things and they weren't weak. Most of them, she corrected. If her mother was wrong about that, maybe she was wrong about other things? She knew her mother's life had jaded her, but she didn't think she'd been wrong about most things. But maybe that was the little girl in her wanting to believe in her mother. Did Tayln make her weak? Or were they stronger together than they were apart? When it came to fighting at his side, she certainly had more to fight for. Maybe she was stupid and foolish, but she didn't want to give him up. She wanted his light in her life. Foolish, idiot girl! Enough, mother! I am not you! I don't want to be you! Old and alone with only the arms bitterness to embrace you!

She rose from her bed and hurried from her room. She inhaled deeply once she'd reached his room, squared her shoulders, opened the door and stepped in. "Tayln, I-" The sight of the woman leaning back against him, her shirt undone and his hand fondling her breast as he kissed her neck sent a cold fury through her. "Get out!" she seethed.

Macy looked up in alarm at the furious woman that had walked in on them. Fear settled hard and cold in her belly. The look in the woman's eyes terrified her. "I – I didn't know he was with anyone. I'm sorry…" she held her blouse together and rushed from the room before the crazy woman acted upon the certain death she'd seen in her eyes.

Morrigan leveled her fury on him; her jaw clamped so tight her cheek ticked. She swallowed and fought to bring her emotions under control before her magic got away from her. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Still, he just stood there with his arms crossed over his chest. "Was it all a lie? I didn't want to believe in your pretty words, but I let them sway me. More fool I. I came here to – it doesn't matter. I know you for what you are now. Mother was right – I was a fool." She turned and left his room.

No! That was not how this conversation was going to end. He darted forward, grabbed her wrist and yanked her against him, his arm coming around her to clamp her tight to him. He kicked the door closed.

"Let me go," she demanded in a cold voice.

"No! You had your say, now I will have mine. I love you, Morrigan. I knew how you felt about love. I couldn't tell you what I felt, because I knew the words you would throw back in my face would hurt, so I showed you in every way that I could. Every touch…every word…my love was in everything I did for you. Still you spurned me. You made sure I knew I was nothing to you but convenient sex. A pretty thing for you to play with. How do you think that made me feel? You made it clear you wanted nothing to do with me when you got your own room tonight."

He loved her? No…the words were a distraction. "And so you bed the first woman you see?"

"I didn't bed her! Your callous words cut deep, Morrigan, as did your actions. For all I knew, you were done with me. She wanted me – you didn't and I wanted to find what comfort I could to sooth my aching heart."

She scoffed. "Your aching - " she shook her head. "I needed time, Tayln! I thought I knew what I wanted…what I needed, but I was being torn in two directions. Mother's voice would not stop telling me how stupid and foolish I was. Who was I without mother, I wondered. Who did I want to be? I needed time to find out."

He closed his eyes, the guilt weighing on him heavily. Perhaps he should have confronted her and forced her to talk to him. But he wasn't the one that separated them – she was. "You are the woman I want in my bed – no one else. I didn't want her – I just wanted to ease the pain…at least for awhile. If you'd have talked to me, I never would have let her touch me. I would have given you the time you needed. I cannot read your mind or know how you are feeling unless you tell me."

He was right. She hadn't talked to him. She hadn't even thought about it. He was always there and she expected him to always be there. What a selfish creature she was. How could he love someone like her? No – perhaps that didn't matter. Just as it did not matter why the sun rose and the tides receded. It just was. She uncurled her fists that were against his chest and slid her hands up to lock behind his neck. "I shall forgive you this once. Do not do it again."

A smile spread over his lips. "As long as I know I matter to you, I have no reason to seek comfort in another."

"You matter," she conceded. She giggled when he swung her up into his arms and carried her to bed.

-BREAK TWO-

Come morning it was good to see that Syn had survived a night in the assassin's arms. In fact, she looked a lot better; there was a glow about her he'd not seen before. Tayln still didn't trust the assassin; he couldn't help but wonder if the man was biding his time, maybe hoping she would lead him to other Grey Wardens…perhaps even the rightful king and queen. He would be watched.

After breakfast they stocked up on dried goods. They were unable to find any available horses. So they mounted up to continue their journey. They soon hit the North Imperial Highway and were making far better time. They set up camp along the northeast side of Lake Calenhad and enjoyed a supper of fish they'd caught from the lake. Zevran, of course, was at no time allowed near the food, until he was handed his own plate to eat from. He made a joke about being served by a Grey Warden, but no one found that jest particularly funny.

"Alas, it would appear my charm is not well received by everyone. Truly, my heart is broken," he said with a long sigh of suffering.

Tayln quirked a brow. "An assassin with an admitted profound love of poison, that already tried to kill us once, should be allowed near our food?"

Zevran laughed. "When you put it like that, that would not be wise at all, my friend."

They talked quietly about their childhoods, because there was little else they felt comfortable saying in front the assassin, and then retired to their bedrolls.

The next day, their departure from camp was delayed due to the rain. The mud on the road delayed them further. They were forced to stop for the night at a small town, with only a smattering of homes. It was a dwarven merchant layover. But at least they were able to rent a couple of rooms on the second floor of the tavern. Needless to say, they would sleep next to their weapons this night.

They settled at a table to order supper. Zevran eyed a lone dwarf sitting at a corner table. "What swill am I drinking? I am seeing double, though I am not complaining."

Syn laughed. "It's dwarven ale. And swill pretty much sums it up. It might make your belly scream but it won't cause you to see double – at least not with one tankard," she assured him.

"Then explain to me, my dear, how your loveliness can be in two places at once? Of course a man can never have too much Syn," he teased.

She released a slow breath. "I think you've had too much to drink. You should probably cut back," she pointed to his tankard.

He shook his head and showed her his tankard. "I've only been able to stomach a few sips of this noxious poison." His lips twitched. "Ironic when you think about it."

She frowned. "Why do you think you are seeing double?"

"Because, my dear, you are sitting here, he pointed to her, and there," he said as he pointed to the corner table.

She looked over at the corner table, her head tilting slightly to the right in astonishment. "That's…that's not possible." She got up and walked over to the table and settled in a chair opposite the other woman.

Thana heard footsteps approaching and waved her hand to shoo the unwanted visitor away. "I'm not interested I -" The words froze on her lips. She could not take her eyes off the woman approaching her. It was as if she stepped out of a looking glass, except her hair was neatly coiffed and her armor was different. She rubbed her eyes but the vision remained. She glanced down into her tankard and then back at the woman who'd settled across from her.

"I would imagine I have that same look on my face. One of wonder and disbelief. Who are you?" Syn asked.

And she even sounded like her. "Your reflection, apparently. I'm Thana. And you are?" she asked pointedly.

"Syn Aeducan…or at least I was…and intend to be again," she corrected. "Do you have a last name?"

Thana's brows drew together. The woman's words made no sense. "No," she said with a shake of her head. "At least I do not know it. I was rescued as a newborn. My adoptive mother was secretive about who she was. Or disinclined to talk much of her past. But…how can you no longer be someone?"

Odd question to come from a dwarf. "Do you know nothing of dwarven politics?"

"No." Again she shook her head. "I was raised by a human. We were always moving as if she were trying to outrun something or someone. I don't know what – she never said," she admitted. Her mother had been the best of mothers. She was showered with love and many fond memories of childhood, despite moving frequently.

That would explain why she didn't know her own people. "I am king Aeducan's daughter. My brother, Bhelen killed my older brother and made sure I would receive the blame for it. I was stripped of my name, and my name and deeds were stricken from the Memories – those are the formal records kept by the shaperate, and I was exiled to the deep roads to die. A Grey Warden found me and we fought our way out together. Now, I am a casteless, surface dwarf with no standing in Orzammar. Welcome to dwarven politics."

Thana blinked. "A Grey Warden found me in the deep roads as a newborn. She told me I was frail and she had been surprised that I was still alive when she found me. Her name was Rhonwyn and she chose to keep me and raise me as her daughter. She named me Thana as a reminder of what I'd overcome. Death."

Frail newborns were often left to die in the deep roads if they did not die at birth. It was a way to give an unnamed baby a warrior's death, so to speak. She, personally, thought it a horrible practice. To suffer until you die. But how could they look like reflections of each other? Did she have a sibling she knew nothing about? "Did your…mother tell you when she found you?"

"Yes. The fourteenth of Drakonis, 9:05 Dragon. She didn't know when I was born, so that became my birthday," Thana admitted with a shrug.

The horror of the realization dawned on her, as much as she did not wish it to be true – that her parents would do such a thing. "You were born on the twelfth of Drakonis." She cleared her throat. "You were my twin. I didn't know there was a second child. I'd like to pretend my parents didn't know either, that your…exile was done behind their backs. Maybe…maybe our father was never told, but how could our mother not have known?" she shook her head. "Mother just slowly wasted away after my birth, she died when I was young. Maybe she could not handle knowing what happened to you or maybe there were complications from my delivery – I don't know. But I do not doubt that you are my twin."

Thana was astounded by what she'd heard. But there was no denying her sister's words. She felt an odd connection to the woman across from her and being twins would explain everything. "But why would I have been left to die?"

She reached out and wrapped her hand around her sister's. "It is common for dwarves - or at least nobility to allow frail or deformed babies to die, rather than risk embarrassment or shame on their Houses. Giving those babies up to the deep roads is a way of granting the unnamed baby respect - a warrior's death. I am horrified by such practices and would have changed things, had I become queen. I'm sorry that happened to you, I would have liked to have had you at my side growing up. But I also know Bhelen would have found a way to kill you or discredit you as he did me. At least, you are alive and I have the chance to know a sister I was denied."

Did she have a better life than her sister? She hadn't been raised as a princess and she loved her mother, but she couldn't help but wonder what her birth family had been like. "What – what were the Aeducan's like? As – as a family?"

She gripped her sister's hand tighter. "I thought it was great as a child. It wasn't until I got older that I heard things. It is whispered that my father had his older brother poisoned so that he could become king. I want to say that the man I knew as my father never would have done such a thing. But, I think I know better. Although he never showed it to me, there was a coldness and drive about him. I overheard conversations I should not have. I also heard rumors that I was his weakness. His only weakness. Maybe that was so; he favored me over my brothers. My older brother Trian expected to be king; he became a spoiled, arrogant child and grew into a severe, tyrannical man. My younger brother, Bhelen – he was soft spoken and loving on the outside – weak even, but he had a viper's black heart. He was the one that orchestrated Trian's murder and framed me for it. I never saw it coming. I knew something was up when he tried to tell me that Trian wanted me dead because he knew I'd be the one to take the throne and not him – but the thing is, Trian couldn't see past his own ego. He never would have believed father would have chosen me even if he heard it from our father's lips."

Syn rubbed her forehead with her free hand. "That was the first time I knew something wasn't right, but I chose to see it as a younger brother overly worried about his sister's life. I never expected him to do what he did. Gorim, my second, was also exiled, but to the surface – not the Deep Roads. I might have survived with Gorim at my side – but that is not what Bhelen wanted for me. No…nothing less than my death would do. Pyral Harrowmont, one of my father's closest friends, knew I would never have killed Trian and he told me my father knew it too. But the evidence was against me and there was nothing they could do. Pyral slipped me a small dagger – _his_ dagger, because he knew all I'd be allotted was a rusty sword. He also told me he'd heard there was a Grey Warden in the deep roads and my best chance of survival was to find him. I will not forget the compassion he showed me."

Thana shivered. "Knowing what you've been through – I think I'm glad I was abandoned to the Deep Roads at birth. I didn't have to grow up in a world where brother slays brother in the name of power. I got to play in the fields, pick flowers, dance in the rain and wish on the stars at night. My mother taught me how to protect and defend myself as if it were naught more than a fun game, but I learned from those games. Except for the moving, I had a normal, happy life. But even the moving was a grand new adventure with new friends waiting to be met."

She grinned at her sister. "That's a very healthy outlook, Thana. You've had a freedom that wealth and power never gave me. I'd like you to meet my friends." She turned and waved them over to the table. "This is my twin sister, Thana. Thana, this is Tayln, a Grey Warden, Morrigan a mage…and his lover. And this is Zevran, a wily…rogue and my lover." She quickly explained to them what had happened to Thana. After Thana fielded their questions she jumped in during a moment of silence. "What brings you so close to Orzammar? It is dangerous for you this close – you would be mistaken for me."

Thana nodded. "And so I was. But I hadn't realized it. A few people asked me if I was sin. I didn't know why they would ask me such a thing, but I joked and told them I tried not to sin. But now it makes sense to me. And so do the strange looks they gave me. I'm here because my mother was unable to keep fighting the calling. And while she'd run from the Grey Wardens when she found me, she couldn't run from the calling. Not any longer. She stopped living as a Grey Warden, but she wanted to die as one. Her last wish for me, she said, was to live a full life, find love, marry, have a family and most of all be true to myself. I've...uh…been waiting here for three weeks, hoping she'd come back to me. But I suppose I can't fool myself any longer." Her voice cracked over the last word and she wiped her eyes with her free hand.

Tayln knew that would be his future as well. He looked down at the ring Morrigan had given him this morning and absently moved it side to side with his finger. "Your mother was a wise woman. Life is uncertain, there is no guarantee that you will have a tomorrow or that your loved ones will. Live each day with all your heart and you will have no regrets."

"Such romantic drivel – _but_ 'tis true, nonetheless," Morrigan amended when she saw the look Tayln had given her. But did she believe his words? Her eyes met his emerald gaze. Yes, she supposed, she did. What regrets would she have if she died? Two things came to mind that she had not expected. She wanted to be a mother. Not like Flemeth was to her. No – not ever like Flemeth. But now that she knew she _could_ love, she wanted a child she could give that love to. But there was one more person she wanted to give her love too. She slipped an arm around Talyn's neck to pull him closer. "You have my love. I just – I wanted you to know," she murmured in his ear.

Words he'd been aching to hear. Finally, freely given. "And I love you," he murmured before he captured her lips in a soft, gentle kiss.

"I'm assuming your lovely sister will be joining us, my dear?" Zevran asked.

"Joining our group, I hope, but not joining _us_ ," she said giving him a pointed look.

He waved his hands in negation. He was surprised to find out he could barely keep up with her needs, two would surely mean his death. "Tsk. Tsk. Such glorious thoughts you have, my dear, when I've sworn myself to only you."

"Ewww…" Thana said with a wrinkle of her pert nose. No, she would never bed someone her sister had bedded. But she did want to join their group. She wanted time to get to know her sister. In truth, she didn't know what to do with herself. She had any number of places she could return to, friends to see again, but right now this was where she needed to be. "I would like to go with you. We have twenty five years to make up for."

"Good," Syn said with a nod. "Does that cloak you're wearing have a hood?" Was it possible to make up for twenty five years? No matter, they would try. When Thana pulled the hood over her head and her face disappeared in the shadows. "Perfect. One Aeducan child returning from the dead is enough for now. I will look into trying to get your name recorded in the Memories. Perhaps, my - our father will do so when he learns of you."

They ordered supper, talked quietly for awhile and then retired to their rooms. Come morning they set out immediately after breakfast. Thana, surprisingly, had a horse. Apparently, a very well trained animal. It lowered itself so that she could mount and then rose to its feet. "I'm jealous," Syn teased. "I've been trying to teach Lovey that trick, but she will only do it randomly."

A smile brightened up Thana's face. "I can work with her! But you can also ride my mom's horse, Tirsa," she said as she pointed to the red and white horse next to hers. "Just tap her front shoulder and tell her 'down'; she will bend low so you can mount." Both of their mounts had been trained for practical reasons.

"That would be very appreciated! But – are you sure about your mother's horse? I can keep riding with Zev…." Syn didn't want her sister to be hurt by seeing someone else on her mother's mount.

Thana nodded down at her sister. "I'm sure. I think – I think my mother would have wanted you to have her. She was family – you are family. She would have been pleased to know that we'd found each other. Go on…mount her." She looked at her mother's half red and half white horse. A stunning animal. She was red from her front shoulder forward and red down her spine to the start of her white rump. Her own horse had more jagged red markings than her mother's and was only about a third white. Her horse was also a couple of inches shorter than her mother's. They were sisters her mother had purchased in Antiva during one of their moves. She'd seen much of Thedas in their travels. They'd skirted Tevinter and hadn't gone as far as the Anderfels, but she'd been through much of the rest of Thedas.

Syn tapped the horse's shoulder and told her 'down' and laughed softly when she knelt down. She rubbed the horse's neck. "I like you already, Tirsa." She raised the stirrup went around to the other side and raised that stirrup and then swung up into the saddle. A smile wreathed her face. She'd mounted without assistance. Thana told her to squeeze her legs to signal the horse to rise and it worked.

The horses brought memories of Antiva back to the assassin, but that wasn't what put a frown on his face. The frown was there because as he sat atop his mount alone he realized he would miss Syn sitting in front of him and their quiet and sometimes teasing banter. When Syn and her sister took the lead, he pulled in behind them with Morrigan and Talyn bringing up the rear. When she motioned him up to join her on her left he grinned.

When they had reached the outskirts of Orzammar they were attacked by five of Loghain's men. How had they known to come to Orzammar? Did he know of the Treaties? Duncan had been careful of keeping out of earshot when he'd mentioned them. Or was Loghain's men here for some other reason?

She vaulted off her horse and started aiming arrows at the attackers to draw their attention while Zevran and Tayln moved in close. She noticed her sister carried a crossbow. Nice, but she didn't like them because they loaded more slowly. It was a smaller cross bow as were the bolts it fired. But the bolt tips were large and could do a lot of damage. When she ran out of bolts, she slid her cross bow under her cloak, withdrew her daggers and joined the men in combat. She would be sure to have Sandal enchant her sister's quiver when they returned to the main camp.

After the men were down, they whistled for their mounts and on to the merchant stables to the far left of the main square, which held the merchant booths. As they approached the main gates, the gate guards were talking to a group of humans. "Keep your hood up," she told Thana.

"Veata! This land is held in trust for the sovereign dwarven kings. I cannot allow entry at this time," the guard told him.

"King Loghain demands the allegiance of the deshyr or lords or whatever you call them in your assembly. I am his appointed messenger," the human demanded.

At least that explained why Loghain's men were here. But the news…it tore at her heart.

"I don't care if you're the king's wiper. Orzammar will have none but its own until our throne is settled," the guard replied with a frown.

Syn squared her shoulders not wanting to show the pain in heart to the guards or humans. "Settled? What happened to my father?"

The guard blinked. "My Lady – er…you're the exile. Aye, despite you brother Bhelen's best efforts, sorrow finished what your kinslaying started. Your father is dead," the guard told her gruffly.

Her gaze narrowed on the guard. "One day the truth will be your greatest shame."

"kinslayer?" The human scoffed. "Oh, you're _not_ getting in."

"So no one sits the throne?" she inquired, ignoring the human.

The guard turned his attention to the exile. "The Assembly has gone through a dozen votes without agreeing on a successor. If it is not settled soon, we risk a civil war."

"We are of the Grey Wardens and come with a treaty requiring assistance with the blight," she told him as she showed him the official treaty.

The human frowned. "The Wardens killed King Cailan and nearly doomed Ferelden! They are sworn enemies of King Loghain!" he informed the Orzammar guards.

He ignored the human's outburst. "Well that is the Royal Seal. Only the Assembly has the authority to address it. Wardens, you may go in, but I do not know what aid you will find." the guard informed them.

"What!" The human snarled. "She's a traitor and a kinslayer! You said so yourself! In the name of King Loghain, I demand that you execute this… _stain_ on the honor of Ferelden!"

She'd had enough. "Run to your false king! Tell him the Wardens stand behind Kael Theirin, the rightful king of Ferelden! Tell him we know who the _real_ traitor was at Ostagar and we are coming for him!" She growled, her hands settling on the hilts of her daggers.

The human eyed the group next to them. They were outnumbered. And if they reached it this far then they'd already disposed of the others. "He will hear of your treachery!"

"I'm counting on it," she said with a wicked grin as the three humans stormed off.

Morrigan hesitated. "Are we…descending into the underground? The thought of so much rock over one's head is…disquieting."

"Dwarves feel the same way when they leave Orzammar for the first time and lose the comfort of the protective stone that has always been above their heads. Many fear they will float away," she said with a chuckle.

"I see your point." Life was what you were used to, anything new required adaption and change. Just as leaving the Wilds and her mother was changing her. "Though it would be amusing to watch them hang on to something so they do not float away. Did you believe in that foolishness?"

Tayln cleared his throat. "Morrigan, my love. 'Did you believe that?' would have been sufficient rather than making it sound like an insult," he murmured softly in her ear.

"Everyone's beliefs are foolish to someone, because we all have different experiences and understandings. But most people are capable of learning and growing, if given the chance. But to answer your question, no. I read a lot as a child and talked to merchants and visitors alike. I was astounded by how vast everything was, but I did not fear floating away."

"You sound like Lor," she groused. "If there was a lesson you wished to impart, I failed to see it."

"As you say," Syn said with a grin. The woman was far too intelligent not to have understood what she said.

-BREAK THREE-

The guards stood aside and they entered the heavy, double doors. She stormed by interior guard with little more than a glare. There was nothing she wanted to hear from him.

"Well, that was a refreshingly chilly reception, my dear," Zevran teased.

"Might need a parka before we leave, I'm sure it will be much colder in the Diamond Quarter." Syn replied with a wry grin.

She stopped cold when she saw her brother. "Bhelen…" she murmured.

Zevran stepped in front of her to stop her from doing something exhilaratingly foolish, no matter how he would have relished taking the man's life. It would appear Tayln was of the same thought, for he was at his side in a blink.

"It is the Assembly who makes a king, and a king who nominates his successor. None of it is carried in the blood," Pyral calmly told the hotheaded Aeducan.

"Or, as now, when someone tried using the Assembly to pull a coup. Who's to say what my father said in his final hours when the usurper Harrowmont was the only one at his side," Bhelen bit out.

"I'll have you thrown in prison!" Harrowmont exclaimed.

"You've bitten off more than you can chew, old man!" Bhelen spit back.

A guard stepped forward. "Handlers! Separate these deshyrs to the Diamond Quarter! I will not have Bhelen incite a riot!"

Bhelen's second pulled his ax "You'll not speak that way about the man who should be king!" Before the quarter's guard could pull his weapons, he had an ax buried in his chest and Harrowmont was pulled quickly away.

"That bastard will pay!" she growled as she pushed her way between the two larger elves. "Come on – I need to speak to Harrowmont." She followed in the direction that Harrowmont and his men had gone. But she was pulled to a stop by Nerav Helmi.

"You are…My Lady…by the ancestors! You were exiled to the Deep Roads. How can you be standing here?" Nerav asked in stunned amazement.

"Obviously, the ancestors knew I was innocent and did not wish for me to meet my death in the Deep Roads. Is it true my brother is thought to have killed our father?" she asked her.

"After what he did to Trian? He should be! But I forgot…you don't know how things have been here." She released a breath. "Since your father died, many have begun to wonder if it was Bhelen's hand behind Trian's death, not yours. Even your father believed that. It's why he appointed Lord Harrowmont as his heir. But enough deshyrs support Bhelen to keep the Assembly in a deadlock. You can see how bad things have gotten."

This was not what she'd thought she'd return to. Her fight to get her name back was only more difficult now with her father dead. She was still upset with her father for not standing by her side. He knew what kind of woman she was and he'd not even bothered to come see her when she was locked up for sentencing. But Harrowmont had come and he was who she would stand by. "How did my father die?"

"In his sleep," Nerav told her, "though many whisper those are only sweet words to hide the smell of poison. May the ancestors accept the king among their blessed number."

She shook her head. "The irony of my fate is not lost on me. The Assembly had wanted me to rule."

Nevar nodded. "I'm sure some curse their decision to exile you. But House Aeducan stands behind Bhelen still, and they have stricken your name. Bhelen still lives in the king's quarters, pretending your father never repudiated him," she said in disgust. "He seems to think if he's close to the throne long enough, we'll forget he has no right to claim it. But…why have you returned?"

"There is a blight uptop," she told the dwarf. "All are needed to end it."

Her hand raised to her throat. "A blight? Now? But…our warriors are killing each other in the streets! Who will lead the battle? How will we survive?"

"Then I will do what I can to see that the Assembly stands behind Pyral."

She nodded. "Then may the ancestors guide your efforts, my Lady. And I should return home where it is safer."

She heard the call of another before she could enter the doors leading to the Diamond Quarter.

"Excuse me!" Dagna called out.

"Yes?" Syn asked.

"Oh, I was actually talking to your companions…or are you from the surface too…wait…you're princess…Lady Aeducan…or you were," she felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. "I don't believe you killed Prince Trian. Most of us don't down here."

Syn could tell the girl was flustered. "It's okay. My name is Syn, what can we do for you?"

Dagna's face lit up. "I've been waiting forever to find someone who really knows the surface world. I don't suppose you know of something called the 'The Circle'?" She saw the woman with the staff on her back. "Are you a real mage? I've never met an actual mage. Is it true you can manipulate nature's forces with your mind? Like you were born with lyrium in your veins?"

Morrigan felt Tayln's hand settle on her arm as if fearing she's say something awful to the young girl. She was not that bad, was she? She had no tolerance for fools, but she wouldn't steal a cookie from a child and this was clearly a child. "That is as good an explanation as any. I cannot imagine my life without magic, though it is feared by many. It is not a life for the weak or foolish."

Syn was surprised by Morrigan's response. She'd been expecting some kind of scathing reply. "What do you seek with the Circle?"

"I've been trying to reach someone there for years. I've sent missives with every caravan, but I never get a reply. I want to know if they would accept me for study. I know I can practice magic – no dwarf can. But I can learn about it!"

Syn couldn't help but grin at the girl's enthusiasm. "I have a companion back at the main camp who is from the Circle. I will ask her when we return, if you like."

Dagna clapped her hands with joy. "That would be wonderful! My name is Dagna, daughter of Janar of the Smith Caste. Tell them I've already begun reading Tevinter Imperium's 'Fortikum Kadab,' and it's fascinating! Did you know the Imperial Magister Lords once had genealogies of every human family known to produce a mage child?"

"To this day they arrange marriages between families with strong magical lineage to produce even stronger mages – or so I've heard," Thana told her.

Dagna's eyes lit up. "They do? I wonder if the book talks about that. I can't wait to find out! I did not know there were other dwarves that shared my fascination with magic!"

"I've lived on the surface all of my life," Thana admitted. "I have been to a great many places. There is much I've heard and seen. I like to learn as much as I can, Dagna. You may call me Thana."

"Ooh…I like you, Thana! I hope we have time to talk some day! I love to hear what else you've heard and seen."

Dagna nodded happily. "I'll go pack my bags right now! I'll be waiting by my father's shop!" She waved and darted around them.

Syn smiled at the running girl's back. She'd often give coin to commoners and even dusters for simple work, to help them out. But she'd wished she'd spent the time to get to know them better. Maybe, she'd have the chance to change that some day.

She entered the door and stopped for a moment on the other side. The Diamond Quarter. The place she'd spent most of her life. Sure, she'd dragged Gorim into Commons and even into Dust Town on occasion. They'd proven themselves in Dust Town on several occasions. Few attempted to attack them after the first couple of battles. But she'd wanted to know all of Orzammar, even its ugly underbelly. She helped those she could, but never stayed too long. Her father would never have approved those visits, it was best not to found out.

Morrigan looked around at all the grand stonework and obvious signs of wealth. "Ah, the social strata quickly makes itself evident no matter where one goes."

"And few bother to learn much about those of lesser means. Out of sight, out of mind." She inhaled deeply and hurried forth to Harrowmont's estate. She brought her finger to her lips as she passed Harrowmont's crier. She was not ready to announce her presence to all and sundry. The guard blinked in stunned amazement when he saw her.

"Lady - "

"Thank you – just let us pass. Few know I'm back yet," she told the guard, who nodded and let her in.

She hurried straight back to Pyral's office.

Pyral looked up and just stared at her for a moment and then a smile spread on his lips. "For a moment I thought I was seeing the dead." He rose from his desk and came around to hug her. "I can scarcely believe that you are here, Syn. I suppose you heard about what happened to your father?"

"I did," she said as she stepped back after the hug. "I can't help but wonder if my loving brother's finger was in that pie as well. He took out two threats to the throne; why not hurry our father to the grave as well? I would put nothing past him at this point."

Pyral nodded. "You have always been a wise woman. Endrin was torn when he lost two of his children, but he was not a weak man. I know it bothered him that he did not stand at your side when you needed him to, but without proof he had to do as tradition demanded. But he did so with a heavy heart. And I agree with you, slow, daily poison, I suspect, in his food or drink - something that would look like he was slowly wasting away. If he'd died suddenly from a large dose of poison, it would draw too much suspicion on Bhelen and they would have wondered if they exiled the wrong Aeducan. As it is, there are still whispers, but not as damaging as it could have been. Now, why have you returned?" He looked over her companions and motioned for them to be seated.

She took Thana's hand and sat down next to Pyral. "Because there is blight topside. Tayln is a Grey Warden," she said as she pointed to the elf, "and we've brought a treaty demanding Orzammar's assistance to fight the blight."

Pyral looked over the treaty and nodded. "Then Orzammar needs a king." He released a heavy breath. "I don't want to be king. I never have. I'm only standing against Bhelen because your father asked me to. Your father wanted you on the throne. He knew Bhelen was behind Trian's murder. He wanted to make sure his youngest never sat on the throne." His hand curled into a fist. "You are the one that should oppose him, not me. But until your name is restored, our hands are tied."

He rose and leaned over his desk, his palms flat against it. "This is not what I wanted…" he grumbled. With another heavy exhale he rose to face her. "Perhaps we should work together. Help me gain the blasted throne. Once done, I will do everything I can to get your name restored to you, then I will name you my successor and step down. The throne should remain in an Aeducan's hands – but not Bhelen's."

Syn nodded. "I can see we think alike. I was going to suggest an arrangement like this, though I had not anticipated that you would wish to step down. Do you think your family would accept that you are doing this for me?"

He chuckled. "My family has always adored you, Syn. And they would stand behind you now, if they could. And so would the Helmi's. No, they would not protest me stepping down in favor of you."

"So I learned when I spoke with Nevar earlier," she admitted. "I had wondered how many would still believe in me.

"More than many, I'd wager. Though they are afraid to openly admit it. Some openly side with Bhelen, but many only do so to keep an Aeducan on the throne. If your name were restored, there would be no deliberation. The throne would already be yours. As it should be," he told her.

She introduced him to her companions, but saved Thana for last. She nodded to Thana who pulled down the cowl of her hood to show her face.

Pyral looked from one to the other, again stunned. "The babe…she lived. The birth attendants thought her too frail to survive. One of my men followed them and then returned to tell me about the royal babe that had been abandoned in the Deep Roads. I sent a pair of my knights in to guard and feed the babe. I did not know what to do. None in my family were pregnant. I was making arrangements for my son, Nevin, to take him on as his child – we were going to say his concubine was a casteless that died in childbirth and her family left the babe on our doorstep. But a Grey Warden arrived. I had her brought to me. She told me it was not her time for the calling, but her child had died at birth and she sought her own death. I told her of the babe left in the Deep Roads to die and that was all she needed to hear. I told her where she could find my men and she rushed out of the estate. My men returned and told me she took the babe and left Orzammar. But I never heard anything after that. I never knew the babe survived. What is your name, child?"

It was obvious that this man, with a huge heart, was the only reason she'd been alive long enough for her mother to find her. She owed him her life. "I am Thana and I cannot thank you enough for what you did for me. Because of your generous heart, I lived a wonderful life with a loving mother."

He was glad he'd made the choice he had. "I do not know if Endrin knew about your birth, but I could not in good conscience let a babe of his die if it could be saved. I'm glad things worked out as they did. Since you were a female, even had my son taken you in, you would have had a hard life here, since you would have been considered casteless."

"Would you allow Thana to stay here? If she is discovered while we're here, Bhelen would see her dead, even if he knew she was not me," Syn inquired.

Thana frowned. "I would fight at your side, sister. I'll keep my face covered."

He knew Syn's words were true. And he'd not saved her life to see it ended at Bhelen's hands. "Thana, I would like to get the chance to know you. This is likely the only chance I will have. Would you not give an old man that much?"

"You are a phenomenal fighter, Thana – at any other time, I would love you to fight at my side. But I need to ensure you survive." If something happened to her, her sister could become her. Because no one would believe she was a twin sister. "Pyral can teach you about dwarven politics and our family. You should know these things in case…"

Thana's eyes narrowed on her sister. In case something happened to her. "You intend for me to take your place – to be queen if you die. That's not what I want."

Pyral nodded. He understood just what Thana was going through. "I know that feeling well, child. But Orzammar needs a better ruler than Bhelen. And what little I know of you is already far better than Bhelen can ever hope to be. Syn is right in this. I know you have no allegiance to Orzammar, but if something happens… we will need you. I will need you," he corrected.

Damn the man. He is the only reason she is alive. She would not have survived two days in the Deep Roads and her mother would have found another dead baby…unless she was eaten by then…or worse. "Fine," she said with a defeated sigh. He'd risked much for her; she could do no less for him.

Syn inclined her head to her sister. "Thank you. I am relieved there is a backup plan. But don't worry – I don't intend to die. Now, Pyral – what will it take to gain support the Assembly's support for you?"

He stroked the braids of his beard. "Have you heard of a woman named Jarvia and the criminal carta she runs?"

She nodded. She'd killed more than a few of her men when they attacked her and Gorrim in Dust Town. "I'm assuming you need them…taken care of?"

"That would definitely help in swaying the Assembly's votes. If you shut her down, we can show the Assembly that I'm the right king to defend Orzammar."

"Then it will be done. We'll be back when it's done, Pyral."

He patted her back. "Stay safe, princess. Orzammar's future is as stake."

She winked at him and then turned to hug her sister. "We'll be back soon."

"You had better. I won't forgive you if you die on me." Thana warned.

"Consider that all the incentive I need." She turned to the others. "Time to take out the trash."

Zevran's lips spread into a wide grin. "You sound sexy when you talk like that, my dear."

After they left the estate she turned left. She was going to stop off at the Shaperate. She spent many days there in her childhood and wanted to know where she stood with Czibor. She looked at the Palace as she passed it and her heart wrenched. Bhelen had destroyed everything she loved. Now it was her turn to destroy him.

Morrigan looked up at the Palace doors. "For such a short people they do rather like their buildings…tall."

"Making up for _short_ comings, I suspect," Zevran teased.

Syn bit her cheek to keep from laughing. "That is absolutely awful, Zev…I should be offended. That is my home you are poking fun at – but it's damned hilarious too." When she entered the Shaperate she went straight to the back where Czibor had often been found.

He set down the tome he was looking through as she approached. "When I last walked this hall, Endrin was king and Orzammar was at peace. The Memories often speak of the swiftness with which change overtakes us, but it is different to see it firsthand."

She nodded. "I have never seen my home in such a state before, shaper."

"Your exile is written in the Memories. I am sorry, but Orzammar cannot be your home, nor I your shaper. We must all obey the ancestor's rules. Why have you returned to us, exile?" Czibor asked.

So that was the way of it. No more kind teacher. She chose to ignore his words. "The blight and the treaty we signed with the Grey Wardens to help fight it have brought me back to Orzammar."

Czibor sighed. "A blight then." He shook his head. "With the Assembly in such a state, there is little that can be done about the blight at present."

"I know. I intend to solve this stalemate so that Orzammar can function again," she admitted.

He frowned. "I do not know what the likes of you can do. I hope what befell Trian does not also befall Bhelen. I would not wish to record that in the Memories."

She shook her head. "The Memories will record the truth soon enough." She refused to keep explaining herself to the blind.

"I will record this conversation in the Memories. I hope I do not come to regret it," he said with discomfort.

Her lips tightened but she smiled and inclined her head to him. She was only halfway to the door when she saw a woman pacing and wringing her hands. She told her how family had come from the old, noble Ortan Thaig, but the records to prove it were lost to the Thaig. She told the woman that if she had cause to go into the Deep Roads she would see if she could find them.

They quickly left the Shaperate before anyone else wanted their help. It was not as if she didn't want to help, but time was a fickle mistress and she already had one foot out the door. She hurried past the Palace without a glance this time.

"That didn't accomplish much. Was there a reason we stopped there?" Tayln asked.

"I was testing old waters. I spent a lot of time with Czibor as a child. I had hoped for a better reception," she admitted with a shrug.

Tayln nodded. "I'm not sure my reception at the alienage would have gone any better. There are some there that blamed me for the soldier's displeasure. I could not leave our women to suffer at the hands of madman, noble or not."

"I get that. I'd have done the same thing. By the stone, I would have fought at your side had I been there," she assured him. "I've gotten into more than one fight with nobles who mistreated their servants."

He chuckled. "I do not doubt that."

They passed through the large double doors and followed her past where they'd entered Orzammar to find themselves confronted by Bhelen's men. "I suppose my being here couldn't have escaped his attention for too long," she said as she withdrew her daggers while Morrigan backed up to a safer distance to fight. "You chose the wrong Aeducan, boys! Fatal mistake, that." She gave them a cocky salute and threw smoke bomb at the warriors' feet. She ran towards the exact spot the men had been and launched herself into the air, her daggers held out. She felt them bite into flesh, dropped and spun a tight circle to slam each of her daggers down in the small space between helmet and armor; they fell in a clang of metal. She heard the creak of heavy armor and shot her foot out to where his knee should be. There was a groan and a clank as his legs went out from under him.

By the time the smoke cleared all seven lay dead on the ground. Well, six…one was still alive - the soldier who'd taken a hit to the knee. He held his arms up as he did his best to sit up. "I'm disappointed in you Taggart. You were one of my father's men. He knew Bhelen killed Trian and he chose Pyral as his successor, so why are you fighting for the man my father repudiated?"

"Because he's the only Aeducan left, princess."

"I have plans, Taggart. I'm not giving up my throne to the monster that is responsible for all this. Bhelen will fall, the memories will be righted. Once the blight is no longer a threat – I will come back for the throne. If that is a future you want, then go see Pyral. Otherwise, lay low or go crawling back to Bhelen. But if you attack me again you will find no mercy in me." She marched past him without giving him another glance and made a beeline for the tavern.

-BREAK FOUR-

Morrigan shivered as she looked at the tavern door. "I do not even want to think from what manner of substance a cave-dwelling people would create their spirits."

"My advice – don't ask. You don't want to know," she assured her.

"Did you work up a thirst? Not that I am complaining. A good drink is always welcome," Zevran teased.

She laughed. "You'll not find a good drink here. You should stick to nug milk or water, if you have anything," she warned. "I'm just looking for someone."

He wrinkled his nose at the thought of nug milk. "Someone?" he asked, wondering if she was tired of their arrangement so soon.

"Not that kind of someone…," she chided. "I'm looking for Pyral's son, Nevin. He has been known to spend time here. A lot of time. And there was something I wanted to discuss with him." When she reached the back of the tavern she circled to the far right and looked around. It didn't look like he was here. "Well, son of a nug-humper…" she grumbled.

Morrigan was appalled by the horrid little place. "Ugh. Just…do not buy anything. Or touch anything. Or…sit anywhere."

Oghren took a sip of his tankard, belched and blinked at the group that stopped nearby. "Oh, I heard whispers about you. The exiled princess returned as a Grey Warden to put the past behind her. Wasn't sure those rumors were true. Appears they were. I figured you'd be the one, you know, who could help me find Branka."

She turned to look at the man that had spoken to her. She only knew of one Branka. "Branka – as in the Paragon that took her whole House into the Deep Roads a couple of years ago and never returned?"

"Not exactly her _whole_ House. She left me behind. Lucky bastard I was," he said dryly. "Our only living Paragon, and she's been lost in the Deep Roads for two years! Two sodding years and no one's raised a bleeding army to go look for her." He took another swig from his tankard. "I know both Harrowmont and Bhelen have been asking about her. Two years without a peep and suddenly now they want to start looking. If you find out what they know, it might put me a step closer to finding her. Or site here and have a drink. It's all the same to me. Barkeep!" he said as he banged his empty tankard on the table.

Even if she had to go into the Deep Roads for some reason, she wasn't quite sure what good having a drunken warrior along would do. Then again, since they lost Thana's help, five did stand better odds than four. "If we find out anything that will help, we'll return."

"It's not like I have anyplace else to go…" he grumbled.

By the smell of him, she believed his every word. She motioned for them to follow and hurried out of the tavern. "Time to gut the underbelly."

Zevran shivered with delight. "The things you say, my dear, go straight to my-"

"Zev! Stay focused, _my dear_ ," she warned as they stepped down on to the dirt path that led to Dust Town.

"Why do the poor not rise up against their betters? This I never understood," Morrigan asked as she saw people dart away like rats in an alley.

"They did once or twice, many, many years ago, according to what I read. The results were…devastating. The other castes joined ranks and burned much of Dust Town to the ground. They lack the knowledge and spirit to fight. And, they are too busy stabbing each other in the back for a coin to work together for something more."

"My alienage was nothing like this place here, outside of being poor. We are a solid community that works together to ensure a better life. We may not have a lot, but we are proud of what we've been able to build, despite the hardships endured. The downside to that is complacency."

Morrigan frowned. Of all the… "If they do not reach for more they will never have it."

"I agree, but only a fool spits into the wind, especially when we are outnumbered and out weaponed. But the winds of change are coming as is our time to make a stand. I believe in Kael and Lor and what we can do together. Maybe change will only come to Ferelden, but it has to start somewhere," he told her.

They began to talk to the dusters about Jarvia and the carta. Some refused to say anything. But those Syn had talked to before admitted they would tell her if they knew, but didn't know where the carta base was. They tried not to get noticed by the carta. She could understand that. It wasn't healthy or conducive to a long life. She dropped a few coins to anyone who had been willing to tell what little they knew.

A group of armed men slipped away when they approached. The obviously remembered her and decided not to take her on yet…or perhaps they slipped away to tell Jarvia of her arrival. No matter. All would be dealt with in time. It is unfortunate she'd not seen where they'd slunk off to.

She didn't get far when a rather nasty looking individual made his presence known.

Hmm…a group of four in fancy togs. Well, he'd taken on four before. Might just be worth to risk to pick their pockets. "You're out of your element down here, stranger."

Her brow arched. "Perhaps, and yet I am here."

His laugh was harsh. "I'm no fool. Nobody just wanders around in Dust Town. You're here looking for me and I don't like it."

My, my. It's a wonder he can walk with an ego that size. "A pity that I don't give a damn."

"You've walked into a sodding fight," he growled. "And I've already passed your tome along. Too bad for you," he said with a sneer as he pulled his daggers and attacked.

She yawned and rolled to the side, whipping out her bow to let an arrow fly, when he was distracted by her men. The arrow sank deep into his temple; he wavered a moment until he hit the ground hard.

"And we are here, why?" Morrigan asked with a frown.

Zevran grinned. "I have often wondered the same thing!"

She laughed and shook her head. "For moral support, of course."

"Ah…see? I knew there was a reason!" Zevran teased with flourish.

While they were busy bantering Tayln looked through the man's pockets and pulled out a receipt. "It would appear he sold this tome to a Gredin at the Proving. Do you think this is the tome we heard some guy going on about at the…library?"

"The shaperate? Could be. We can check it out on the way back." She looked around for others she could talk to. So far she'd not gotten much information to go on. She continued further in to Dust Town. A man with pet nugs went on about falling into the sky, but gave then nothing useful.

"H-have you a coin to spare, m'lady?" Zerlinda asked. "It's for my son. He's sick. He hasn't had any clean clothes to wear or anything to eat today. N-neither have I."

She turned towards the woman who spoke. Odd, she didn't look like she belonged here. The woman had no brand on her face. "Why are you down here?"

"I am nothing! My family has disowned me. I am no longer welcome in any Mining Caste hall. Unless…." She shook her head. "No! I can't bear to even think of it!"

"Think of what?" Sometimes it was like pulling teeth to get people to speak of a problem they obviously need help with.

Zerlinda's fists tightened. "My son's father is casteless, as is he. I used to be a miner, but my parents stripped my caste and refused to accept me back unless I abandon my son in the Deep Roads and pretend I never bore him. I – I could never do that. I'd rather raise him here. He may not have much, but he will know love."

She wanted to help, but she also knew that if her parents took them both back the whole family would likely be shunned and could well become destitute if they weren't allowed to work - or if they too lost their caste because they refused to bend to tradition. "I have friends here. Let me see if I can find one of them willing to claim your son as their own. I can't say he'd marry you, but it should be enough for you to be able to return topside." She pulled out her coin purse and handed the woman two silvers. "This should tide you over until I return." Having children was a big thing to her people. Not all of them could, so one of them might be willing to claim the boy. "If I can't find anyone then I will make arrangements for you to meet up with one of mine to give you coin in exchange for mending or washing his clothes – or whatever you are good at doing. You can work the arrangement out with them."

This was almost too much to believe. "Why do you even care?"

"Because I do. I'm Syn Aeducan and since I've left Orzammar my eyes have been opened far wider than they were before. Things need to change and I intend to see that they do. But that change will not occur fast enough to help you," she admitted.

Now she knew why the woman looked familiar. She'd only seen her once in passing, many years ago, but now she couldn't unsee it. "P-princess? I – but you are casteless now. What can you do?"

That was what she intended to find out. "Whatever it takes to set things right – for all of my people."

Now there was finally a ray of hope. "I hope you are successful – no one should have to live like this. My name is Zerlinda. My father's name is Ordel. He is usually at Tapsters. My son has neither been named nor branded yet. If you find someone willing…he can name his…son." She would glad do that and more for such a generous man.

She nodded. That might even be an incentive. "Take care, Zerlinda. I'll be back when I can." She turned to look around at who else she might be able to question and spotted some people sitting around a fire. Maybe…but she was nearly to the point of just opening people's doors, rude or not.

Nadezda moved closer to the fire pit and looked up when the fancy dressed group nearby. "Well, look at that," she said as she struggled to her feet. "It's not often ol' Nadezda sees such finely dressed strangers here in Dust Town. Help a poor cripple out?"

Everyone down here was in need. And she rarely gave out coin without some kind of work. They needed the pride they would get from working for wages. But, right now, what she needed was information. "I am willing to pay for information on Jarvia. Have you heard of her?"

Her life wasn't worth much these days, but a hearty meal sure would be. "Heard of her? I used to run with her. Jarvia took over the carta not more than a year ago, and already she's got every duster with both legs bearing swords for her. But if you're looking to find her, it won't be easy. She's gotten real careful since Beraht died, real paranoid. She's got carta members all carrying these finger-bone tokens. She scratches some mark into them, so she'll know they came from her. There's doors to her base all over the city, but only one is ever open at a time, and if you show up without a token, you'd never know it was there. Can't help you find one, though. The carta members keep them real tight. Now, about that coin you promised."

She put twenty silver in the palm of the woman's hand and wrapped the woman's fingers over them. She'd helped them far more than she had expected. "Thank you, Nadezda. This should see you through for awhile."

Nadezda blinked in surprise and tried not to smile too widely. Best not to let her good fortune be known to others. It was a good way to lose what you have. "For awhile? I'll have a full belly for a week or more. Thank you, stranger. You are most kind. Who are you?" For some reason she felt she should know her.

She was the only Syn ever to have been recorded in the Memories. "Syn," she said with a wink and hurried away. She never saw the stunned look of surprise on the dwarf's face.

"I was hoping the carta would get their nose tweaked by asking around too much. Apparently not. We'll have to try to force the issue, since we need to get our hands on a finger-bone token." She'd seen a thug go through a door earlier and figured that would be their best shot. She didn't normally like walking into people's homes, it was rude. But they weren't getting anywhere with what they'd been doing.

She headed towards the far building and was surprised the door was not locked or barred. She swung the door open and stepped in, moving to the side to allow the others to come in. Six little thugs.

"Well, look what we have here…" an older man said with a grin.

"Jarvia said you were looking for trouble. Congratulations, you found it!" the younger counterpart sneered as he pulled his sword and shield.

She had thought they would fight to the last man, but after four of his fellow thugs went down the leader surrendered.

The leader dropped his sword and slid his shield on his back before holding his arms up. "D-don't kill me! Sodding ancestors, what do they teach you on the surface? You flight like the bleedin' archdemon! Seet, bloody Stone – look at them all!"

She crossed her arms under her breasts and frowned at the leader. "Why did you attack us?"

He rubbed his sore ribs. "J-Jarvia said you've been asking about…Oh, don't look at me like that! I got a kid. I got no other way to bring in coin."

She nodded. She understood that. There were few ways for a duster to make a living. "Where is Jarvia's base?"

He needed to survive this. He had a son to think about. "The base is below the city. Y-you can get to it through the door of the third house on this row." He held out his token. "Put this through the slot and it'll open. Will you, uhh…let me go now?"

"Of course – but stay far away from the base today if you want to go home to your kid. In fact, take your child and go to the surface for now. You can find honest work there. If I catch you doing this again," she said, motioning to the dead thugs, "there will be no mercy."

"Y-yes. Right away…thank you…thank you." He motioned to the surviving man and they ran from small room.

She looked down at the token and shuddered. "Anyone else want to hold this?"

"You are our fearless leader, no? Surely, the honor is yours," Zevran teased.

"'Tis only a bone long dead," Morrigan said with a shake of her head as she snatched the finger-bone from Syn with a grin. "Do you think it cursed?"

"No, just disgusting. Thanks!" she said as she darted out of the hovel. Her feet carried her swiftly to the door of the third house on the row. There was no obvious handle, but she did see a small slot. She stepped to the side and motioned to the slot. "Slide the bone into the hole."

Zevran couldn't stop his laughter. "You are such the tease! Later, my dear. I shall do that and more…"

She could feel the heat bloom in her cheeks. "Do the _more_ first and you will be amply rewarded." The door swung open. She pulled the bow from her back and stepped through.

He palmed his sword and dagger and followed her in. "You are a delightful minx!"

They followed the dusty hall to another door. She could see carta members through a distant door. She moved to the left. Three were in sight. She nocked her arrow and released. She took down two before the third realized what was happening and leapt away from the door. Now that they were aware an archer was there they would not come running out the door. "I do believe they are awaiting our arrival, gentlemen."

With Zevran and Tayln in the lead the women followed. Zevran threw a small flask into the room, when it shattered a smoke screen forced Jarvia's men to give ground and allowed them to come inside. She fired arrows in the direction of dwarven curses until the room fell silent. It was as if everyone were holding their breath until the smoke cleared. As soon as the smoke could be seen through the fighting resumed. Bu their ten men were down by four. That left six to their four. Piece of cake.

When the room was cleared out they exited out the opposite end and continued deeper down into the carta's hideout until they came to where the main hall spit off to two different rooms. They took the room to the right first. Tayln nodded to Zevran who slipped into the shadows and stealthily down the hall to take care of the traps. He waved them forward when he'd removed the last trap.

She or Tayln could have done what Zevran had done, but as the new man they wanted to see him in action and get a better understanding of his capabilities. And it was merited seeing as how spectacularly he failed in his mission to kill them. But he was proving adept at everything they'd thrown at him thus far…including his nocturnal activities. Syn! Keep your head in the game, girl!

When that room was cleared out they followed the same procedure with the room across the hall. Though, they were surprised to see a qunari in the room.

"He has more the look of Sten than Kadar," Morrigan noticed.

"Stern and grey? Maybe the Qun sucks the gorgeous out of its followers…good thing Kadar was never exposed to it."

"Ladies, if you please – more fighting and less mooning over Kadar," Tayln bit out as he dodged the swing of an ax.

Syn winked at Morrigan and released an arrow. "Shall we moon over Kael?"

"No!" he growled as the qunari he was fighting was felled by an arrow in his eye. He dodged out from beneath him.

"Timber!" Zevran warned as the huge man fell. "Who is this Kadar and Kael?" Kael…where had he heard that name? No matter, it would come to him.

Tayln blinked. Kael's name should not have been brought up around the assassin. "No one to worry about, they are very good looking men that are very happily taken."

The returned to the main hall and before they went very far rooms again split off on either side. She peeked around the corner for a look and drew back quickly. "There are men out and waiting on both sides. We can pair up and each take a side or we can hope they will be stupid and all come rushing us." The men could sit tight and draw arrows on them as her group entered the 'T' section. She heard battle cries and smiled. "The idiots are coming for us. Make your spells as wide as possible and have fun with it. They took out any men that managed to make it through the spells. When the spells petered out she peeked around the corner once more. There were a number of dead bodies but the rest had made it back to their rooms and were peeking out the doorways themselves. She felt the tingle of a magic shielding her and and she stepped out into the intersection. She loosed two arrows spun and released another two. The remaining men receded farther into their rooms. "Now!"

She and Zevran went to the left and she motioned the other pair to the right. If they did not separate they would be shot from behind or flanked. She shot additional arrows into each room to keep the carta back from the door and then hurried towards the room she and Zev would finish cleaning out.

They met back up at the intersection when their goals were accomplished. In this manner they pushed through the carta caverns. The direction was direction was pretty linear, with only a couple of more 'T' intersections.

They were heading up a passageway and turned left, which ended up in a room of cells. After the prison guards were killed she lifted the keys from the jailor and released one of the two imprisoned men, who gave them many thank yous as he rushed out of the room. The other man that was hanging in chains within another locked cell. She unlocked it and approached him slowly. She wasn't even sure if he was still alive. He wore little but some kind of loin cloth, his body was gaunt and riddled with wounds and scars, some old, some raw.

He almost didn't bother to open his eyes. Sometimes it was better not to see the pain coming. But a soft, flowery scent reached him and his eyes opened to see a breathtaking vision surrounded by group of fancy armored people. Oddly, only one was a dwarf…the one that took his breath away, even if he couldn't see her all that well. There were also two elves and a human. "Are you here to finally kill me?" he rasped.

"No, we're here to free you." She released one shackle then the other. She grimaced at his sounds of pain as he brought his arms down. She nodded to Zevran. "Remove the armor from one of the men. He cannot run around as he is." She looked again at the prisoner. "How long have you been here?"

"I don't know," he said with a small shake of his head. "Months? Years? One day blends into the next. What year is it?" When she told him he nodded. "A year then. I was supposed to die when I impersonated a warrior and won the proving. But the torturing was far more fun than a quick death. My sister – Rica Brosca…do you know if she's okay?"

"I'm sorry – I don't know who that is. What does she look like and is she a carta member?"

"No…not really. She was trying to…uh…birth a noble's babe in hopes of raising her status. She has bright red hair and light blue eyes – very pretty."

That sounded familiar to her but how… wait…"I remember seeing her. Not recently. But last year. She was in my…Prince Bhelen's bedroom, waiting for him to return. Perhaps she has done what she set out to do." She took a step back so that Zevran and Tayln could help the man buckle on his armor. "Leave this place – turn right the first chance you get and keep turning right it will take you back out into Dust Town. We are taking out the carta, so you need to stay clear."

His eyes narrowed. "I will help you fight. I owe them for what they did to me. A Grey Warden came by to conscript me right after the proving – but they told him my sentence had already been carried out. They taunted me every day with how close I'd come to freedom."

Realization hit her. Theron. He must have gone into the Deep Roads after he failed to conscript this man, perhaps hoping to find him exiled to the Deep Roads and he'd found her instead. "Do you want to be a Grey Warden?"

Garrett nodded. He could never have what he wanted most…but maybe he could have that. "That's all I've ever wanted since I heard about it. I – I want free of this place. But only if I know my sister and mother are being taken care of. I can't leave them if they are destitute."

"Of course, I understand. Your Grey Warden found me instead. I feel I owe you the chance to become a Grey Warden. But don't follow us. You are too weak to do anything but get yourself killed right now. Wait for us by the main fire when you leave the hideout." She handed him a couple of silvers. "Get something to eat and drink, and a bath if possible, while you wait for our return."

She was right. He'd been fed too little for too long. He might not be able to give the carta what they had coming, but they were going to get it anyway. That was what mattered. "I will do as you say. Thank you. Wait – who are you?"

She smiled and gave a small shake of her head. "Sorry. I'm Syn. This is Tayln, Zevran and Morrigan."

He nodded. "I'm Garrett Brosca. Syn – are you…" He blinked and forced his eyes to focus. He felt his world tilt. It was her. He'd wanted her the first time he saw her in Dust Town. Over the years, he'd come to love her. She was generous, kind and had always been willing to help and talk to the casteless. She didn't treat them like a waste of space. It was surreal that she would be the one to free him. She was the one thing he wanted most - and the one thing he could never have.

"An exiled princess that survived the Deep Roads? Yes. Now shoo, Garrett, and may the stone have your back."

They followed the ravaged man out until he turned right as she'd told him and then proceeded deeper into the lair. Two battles in, they saw another qunari. She'd been joking about the qun sucking all the gorgeous from its people, but now she was beginning to wonder if there was some truth to that.

Their path came to another 'T' and she swung left. The path ended at a spider's nest. It would seem that giant cave spiders did not like their nest invaded. But their soft bodies made it easy to kill them, if a little gory. They returned to the intersection to look for more carta members down the opposite path. The end of that path forked off in three directions, but before they could go deeper they had to deal with the thugs that poured from the forks.

The forks were all dead ends and the only thing they found down any of them were complacent cave rhinos and deepstalkers. Oddly unaggressive. Perhaps they were raised by the carta as pets? Regardless, she couldn't bring herself to kill something that posed no threat. They returned to the intersection once more. Their path forward led to a door. "Stay tight, this is likely Jarvia's headquarters," she warned.

The door was unlocked, though likely they did not expect any but their own to make it so far.

-BREAK FIVE-

Surprise. Surprise. The group she'd been hearing about actually made it to her chamber. Impressive, but foolhardy. They wouldn't make it past her. "So, Harrowmont finally realized we're taking the city, yet he still can't be bothered to send his own men. Well, you picked the wrong side, stranger. It doesn't matter who's king, as long as there's a queen!" Jarvia pulled her weapons.

Her smile was icy. "Stranger? You don't get out much do you? I will be the only queen Orzammar will know. Unfortunately for you, it won't end well."

Jarvia laughed when she realized who stood before her. "So the fallen princess has returned. Orzammar already has a queen – you're far too late. Kill them! But leave the pretty princess to me – I have plans for her."

"Stay back from the traps surrounding Jarvia! She will come out on her own or die where she stands!" Rather than disarming the traps and putting herself at risk Syn decided to pelt her with poisoned arrows until she decided to come out of hiding. Since Jarvia kept moving, she didn't get a clear shot at a lethal location, but the poison would wear her down in time.

Jarvia knew not to yank the arrows out. They would begin bleeding and further reduce her strength. She wasn't worried about poison; she'd built up a slow tolerance to just about every poison common in Orzammar. When her sense of balance became affected she realized whatever the arrows were laced with, it was not a common poison. No! It wasn't going to end this way for her! She could either run and hope to find a cure or she could kill the woman who'd killed her. Revenge sounded far better. She vaulted over the tripwire of her trap and launched herself at the princess.

Syn slipped the bow onto the hook at the back of her armor and pulled her daggers. She slipped to the side and kicked the side of Jarvia's knee with the bottom of her boot when she came down. Jarvia's leg gave and she went down hard on her broken knee. She gave the woman credit for not screaming out in the pain that would have caused. She knocked the dagger from the downed woman's left hand, with her blade taking part of two fingers with it. "You have been weighed, you have been measured and you have been found wanting. In what world could you ever have beaten me? There is only one queen of Orzammar. This is for Garrett," she said as her blade whipped across the carta leader's throat. She spun and kicked the woman in the back so that she would fall forward not continue to spray blood in all directions. The arrows that peppered her front were pushed through her and out her back from the weight of her body.

Syn looked around to see where she could assist, but the last of the thugs were falling as their leader had. She bent down and searched Jarvia's pockets and pulled out a key. She wasn't sure if she'd need it for either door, but better to have it and not need it than having to come back to get it. She rose with a nod. Since she intended to check out what was behind both doors anyway, she headed to the door on the right first. The office. She found a love letter in one of the chests. Obviously kept for blackmail purposes, but she had no use for it. She tossed it onto a lit scone on the wall in the room and left the office.

The key unlocked the door on the left. She expected the passageway to end in storage or a bedroom or an escape route. What she didn't expect was it to lead to a door. The door didn't budge, but didn't seemed locked either. Perhaps it was barred on the other side. A blast of magic power and the door swung out in a shower of dust and pebbles into another room.

Janar looked up startled when the wall gave out on the side of his store. "Gah! By all the beards of my ancestors! How did you…where did you come from?" he wailed. What a mess.

Syn's head tilted and her eyes narrowed on the man. "We came through the exit of the Carta hideout. Interesting to find you here. Are you supplying the carta?" she asked pointedly.

The carta? Could this get any worse? "No! I don't have anything to do with them! They're criminals! When they built this part of the city, they must have built over some tunnels. I swear, I had no idea! I'm a simple shopkeep. Janar Armorers. Ah, just leave me alone. I don't want anything to do with this. And if anyone comes asking, I'm gonna tell them _you_ made that hole!"

"That was a mighty thin _wall_ , Janar. I hope your story rings true, because if you were supplying the carta, your sales are going to dwindle….dramatically. But for now, I've coin to spend. I need a suit of armor and underarmor for a warrior. Nothing looking remotely like carta armor."

"I don't sell to the carta!" he assured her emphatically. He was somewhat mollified when she paid full price.

The men grabbed the armor. She handed the helmet to Morrigan and picked up the underarmor. When they stepped from the store they were not far from the fire. She barely recognized Garrett now that he was cleaned up and had even, apparently, given himself a haircut and a shave. Few dwarves were willing to part with their beards. He was ruggedly handsome, though still gaunt. Time alone would see to that. "You clean up well, Garrett. I had to look twice before I even recognized you."

He felt a warmth rise in his cheeks. He could not even remember the last time he'd blushed. "Nadezda here was willing to see to my grooming." He rubbed his smooth face. "It feels good to be clean again."

"We bought you some new armor. We can't have you mistaken for carta." She handed him the underarmor and Morrigan gingerly sat the helmet atop the padded shirt. "Find someplace to change. Tayln and Zev will assist you."

"Come," he said as he waved them to follow him. "My old home is deserted. I can only assume that Rica birthed a son and she and our mother were moved into the palace. It's almost too much to believe. You two can come in as well," he said to the women as he reached the door to his old home. "I have a wall I can change behind."

When the men slipped behind the wall, she turned to Morrigan. "Is there a magic spell that can remove his mark," she asked motion to the right side of her face.

That was an interesting question. "Provided he wishes it to be removed. While I do not know a specific spell designed for that purpose, I can…attempt it."

Garrett smiled when he stepped out from behind the wall. He bumped his fist against the chestplate. "This is superior to my old armor." While he'd lost some muscle, most of the loss had been in his legs, as there'd been no give to the chains that held his wrists, so he could not do squats to exercise his legs. He had been able to do pull ups on his chains, so even though his arms had suffered some muscle loss he was able to keep what he'd had toned. "Thank you, princess."

"You're welcome, Garrett. I wanted to ask you…the brand on your face – do you want to keep it or have it removed?" She asked cautiously, not wishing to offend him either way.

He just blinked. Why would he want to have that mark as a constant reminder to the torture he'd endured? "Is that a joke? I intend to cut it off as soon as I get the chance. I'd rather have a scar on my face than a reminder of what was done to me."

"My friend, Morrigan," she said, motioning to the mage, "is willing to attempt to try to remove it – if you are willing trust her with a spell."

He looked over at the black-haired mage and nodded. "Beats peeling my skin off."

Morrigan stepped in front of him and raised her hand to his face and placed her fingers over the brand. She chanted softly as she drew upon her magic. Wispy plumes of yellow mist seeped out from between her fingers and the side of his face. She pulled her fingers away and studied his skin. "'Tis a wonder you fared so well. I did not know what to expect," she admitted as she returned to Tayln's side.

His skin had grown uncomfortably warm during the spell. He reached up to touch it and winced. "What does it look like?"

Syn studied the red mark. "The brand appears to be gone, but the skin is a bit red at the moment as if you burned it. I imagine it will disappear in a couple of days. Thank you, Morrigan – that will heal far better than peeling the skin off."

Morrigan inclined her head. "You are most welcome. I have impressed even myself."

Tayln slipped his arm around her waist and kissed her forehead. "You are always finding new ways to impress me, my love."

Morrigan's cheeks tinged with pink. "You are too kind."

Syn grinned. It was good to see Morrigan relaxing more often. She deserved the chance to find out what life could be like away from her mother. "Time to pay Gredin a visit at the Proving and then we'll let Pyral know what happened."

At the edge of Dust Town she gave herself a good shake to rid herself of as much dust as possible and then took the steps up to the Commons. As they approached the bridge to the Proving she noticed the bodies of Bhelen's men had been removed. She wondered what decision Taggart had made and then pushed the thought away. It didn't matter.

They crossed the bridge and entered the large, double doors. Once inside they took the first hall to the left. As soon as they approached Gredin, a small group attacked them. She was caught off guard when she saw Gerrett pull the sword and shield he'd gotten when they'd stripped the dead carta thug. For a man who had lost so much weight, he was surprisingly good. She saw a movement out of the corner of her eye and ducked, barely missing the swing of a great ax. She stepped towards the man and kicked out hard at his groin. When he doubled over, she spun and kicked out, the bottom of her boot connecting to the side of his head.

Dazed, he dropped his weapon and held his hands up. She kicked it away and turned to see who was next, but only bodies littered the stone. She turned to the lone survivor. "Get out of here. You attack us again – you die."

"Y-yess, thank you..." He picked up his ax and hurried away. He did not look back.

She found the tome on Gredin, just as the Proving Grounds receipt had said. It was a volume on shaper history. No wonder they had wanted it back so badly.

She left the Proving Grounds and entered the large, double doors that led to the Diamond Quarter. When another group of Bhelen's men attacked, there were no survivors. Thankfully, the tome survived the encounter.

Milldrate's eyes widened when he saw the tome in her hands as she entered the shaperate. "You found it! Thank you, prin – er…Syn, you have my gratitude. You are a bright spot in an otherwise dark time."

A small smile tugged at her lips. "You're welcome, Milldrate. Perhaps, times will not be dark for much longer."

"If the stone had ears…" he grumbled.

There were no attacks on the way back to Pyral's estate, though she doubted she'd seen the last of her brother's band of merry men. She found Pyral in the living quarters rather than his office. He and Thana were deep in a discussion when he saw them.

He rose with a smile on his face. "I heard the news. Jarvia and her carta are dead. I suppose it was unrealistic to expect them to surrender."

"Much as I might have wished," she said with a grin. "But a couple were enlightened and took off to the surface to find a better line of work. But, yes. The carta will no longer pose a problem."

He paced for a moment and then turned to face her. "When Bhelen heard about Jarvia, he raised the stakes. He is forcing a vote in the next two days. By law, as you know, that prevents the Assembly from hearing any other pleas. I need something to sway the Assembly. I need a paragon. The only living paragon we have is in the Deep Roads, lost to us for two years. Were she to return and endorse someone for the throne, the Assembly would be honor-bound to accept her wishes. And if she returned to the stone in the Deep Roads, bringing proof of her death or a body would show that as an acestor, ti was my hand she guided to her remains."

"Then we will search the Deep Roads to find out what happened to her," she told him.

Thana rose from the pillowed, stone sofa. "I want to go with you."

"Thana…" she warned. "We cannot risk both of us, you know that. I have four very capable people that will be fighting at my side - "

"Five," Garrett growled. "You know I can fight. I'm going with you."

She frowned at Garrett. "You should eat and regain your strength. Besides, that sword and shield you carry has seen better days. Going in the Deep Roads with those will only insure your death."

That nug-shit wasn't going to fly. "I'm not staying behind! I know what I'm capable of. The more people you have with you the better the odds of your survival." He had protected her on her journeys through Dust Town after she'd helped his mother and now he had even more of a reason to protect her. She'd freed him and saved his life. But it was more than that. He wanted to be near her and after years, he finally had the chance.

Thana nodded. "He's right. That's why I'm going too. You are my sister and the danger you are going into now is far greater than criminals. I won't back down on this. I'm not asking for permission. I'm going."

Pyral frowned; he didn't like the idea of Thana going either. If they both died, he'd have to carry the throne and that, he did not wish to do. But the red-haired man was correct. Syn's odds of returning were far greater with more fighters. "I have a worthy sword and shield your friend can have."

Garrett inclined his head to the noble. "Thank you."

Pyral unlocked a nearby chest and withdrew a crested shield and sword. He lowered the lid and returned to the group.

Garrett leaned the looted sword and shield against the column next to him and took the offered pair in hand. He'd never felt a better balanced sword and the shield was well made and sturdy. He hooked the shield onto his back and slid the sword into the scabbard on his hip.

Pyral stroked his beard. "My men traced Branka's disappearance to an ancient crossroads knows as Caridin's Cross. It is many miles below where we normally venture, but I can provide a map to lead you there. Just enter the Deep Roads through the mines. Make sure you bring enough food with you – my kitchen staff will supply you; there is nothing down there that you should eat. And Syn? Come back. Orzammar needs you."

She gave him a brief hug. "I always turn up when least expected. Oh, Pyral – I almost forgot. Find a man that is willing to claim a son as his own. There is a young miner caste woman that has been disowned. The babe is young, unbranded and unnamed. She will let whomever claims him name him. Just…not your son. I'll talk to you more about that after I return."

Babes were always wanted. "I will check with my nephew then. If he doesn't have a stone's lick of sense then I will find another."

"Thank you." She turned to look over her group and let out a harsh breath. If she didn't allow Garret and Thana to come, they'd just follow and it was not safe for two alone down there. "We have two days. Follow me to the kitchen."

"May the ancestors guide your steps," Pyral told them.

She showed them to the kitchen and when each were given as much food and drink as they could comfortably carry, they departed the estate. They took the doors back down to the Commons and went to Tapsters to hunt down the man that was in Branka's house to let him know they were going into the Deep Roads.

Oghren blinked and set his tankard down. "So, You were serious before when you said you wanted to help Branka,huh? I'm Oghren, I don't know if you remember. People seem to forget me these days. Or I ignore. I forget which." He shook his head to clear it. "I'm the only one who still cares about her as a person. Everyone else thinks she's just a symbol they can leave in the Deep Roads where she can't offend anyone. I _know_ what Branka wanted and how she was looking. You, I assume, know whatever Harrowmont dug up on where exactly she disappeared. If we pool our knowledge, we stand a chance of finding Branka. Otherwise, good sodding luck to both of you." He blinked. "Why are their two of you?" He shoved his tankard away. Sodding booze.

Of course, she didn't remember his name because he'd never given it to her. "Thana, pull your cowl deeper, your face can be seen. You didn't see anything, Oghren. I'm assuming, by what you said, that you want to come to the Deep Roads with us? If so, you are welcome to join us. Another man to fight meant her sister and Garrett would have a better chance at surviving. I'm Syn, and my friends are Zevran, Tayln, Morrigan, Thana and Garrett," she told him as she pointed to each of them in turn.

Too blasted many names to remember. "Good on you, Syn." Syn was much easier to remember. That was the name of the exiled prin…Oghren blinked. "Well, pinch my arse and call me a nug-lover. You are the princess – er…exiled princess. And you survived the Deep Roads. We might just find Branka yet. You should know she was looking for the Anvil of the Void, the secret to building golems, which was lost centuries ago."

She nodded. "I'm familiar with Caridin's invention – it was what earned him the title of Paragon." She looked at her friends. "For those of you that don't know, he created the Anvil that was used to construct the golems that defended Orzammar for a hundred years, before they were lost to the Deep Roads."

"True," Oghren agreed. "As far as anyone knows, the Anvil was built in the old Ortan Thaig. Branka planned to start looking there, if she could find it. All she knew was that it was past Caridin's Cross. No one's seen that thaig for five hundred years."

"You mentioned you were part of Branka's house, is that why you want to find her?"

"You could say that. We were sodding married until she left me and took our whole House into the Deep Roads on her mad quest for the Anvil. It was a _stupid_ move. If I'd been with her, she'd have made it back years ago. But I forgive her," he groused.

"Pyral gave me a map, we should be able to find Caridin's Cross," she informed him.

"Then let's get moving. Branka's not going to sodding find herself," he told her.

They left Tapsters and stopped off at a vender in the Commons so that Oghren could pick up supplies. The guards parted and allowed them entry into the Deep Roads. Apparently, Pyral had already given them clearance. Aeducan Thaig was the first thaig they reached. She'd been here last year looking for the Aeducan shield, so she was able to get them through it. It would have been too much to ask for the darkspawn to have stayed out. But there weren't many here, it was a practice run more than anything else.

Boulders had fallen across the road she needed to take to get to Caridin's Cross. But they weren't that high, with a bit of teamwork, they were able to scale the boulders and continue on.

Oghren came to a stop when they reached the thaig. "Caridin's Cross! I can't believe Harrowmont actually tracked this place down. This used to be one of the biggest crossroads in the old empire. You could get anywhere from here, including Ortan Thaig. Caridin was an Ortan before he founded his own House, and even then, he spent most of his time in their thaig. Branka figured it was the best guess for where the Anvil was located."

"My map only reached as far as Caridin's Cross. Do you know the way from here?" If not, this was going to be slow going.

"Aye, Branka dug up some maps of the ancient empire. It's a little tough to tell with so much of it collapsed now, but near as I can figure we're on the right path to Ortan Thaig."

Tayln shuddered. "I can feel the corruption down here. It's like a cold that has settled into my bones."

Garrett couldn't feel anything but the weight of what they were doing. "That is a Grey Warden thing, I gather?"

Tayln nodded. "We are more sensitive to darkspawn and the taint."

"Look," Syn said as she pointed further down the way. "We are not alone. Likely my brother is searching for Branka as well. Let's see if they will play." She motioned for the others to follow her.

The man grinned when he saw them approach. "Well, look what we have here…Harrowmont's little lackeys…Let's show 'em who's king!" he growled as he pulled his greatsword.

Too close to use a bow, she pulled her daggers. "Seven to three – you'd have been better off running!" she taunted. Moments later, they proved how true her words were.

Oghren bumped Garrett's shoulder and held his flask out to him. "Care to partake of Oghren's home brew? It's the drink of the gods."

Garrett eyed the flask and let out a slow breath as they followed the others. "Been too long since I've imbibed. Couldn't hold my liquor if I wanted to right now. Let me get some more meat on my bones – then I'll see about drinking you under the table."

Oghren and slapped the man's back with a loud laugh. "We're gonna get along just fine. Take that exit on the right!"

-BREAK SIX-

When the tunnel opened up into a large cavern they were engulfed by darkspawn, which seemed to be coming from three directions. If she hadn't seen the evidence of a blight topside she would never have believed it. There were more darkspawn down here than she'd expected. Maybe having seven in their group had been the right thing to do after all. Right now she was wishing she'd asked Pyral for a few more men.

She thought she'd be able to keep an eye on Thana and Garrett, help them if needed. But right now, looking after herself was a chore. For some reason the darkspawn seemed to have a personal bone to pick with her. She had to keep darting around to use her bow, but having two warriors did help keep some of them at bay. Her main goals were archers and emissaries, but picking on them got the sword bearers' attention. Thankfully, Zevran and Thana and Tayln were great at pouncing on those that tried to engage her – at least as many as they could.

Despite the putrid smell of death, they smiled at each other when the last one fell. Due to sheer numbers, that had been a battle hard won. She felt a wave of rejuvenation and inclined her head to Morrigan for the pick-me-up. She might be new at healing, but she'd been there when they needed her most.

The bridge was clear, though traps had to disabled before they could cross it. As expected, more darkspawn awaited them on the other side, to include an ogre and some shrieking elven darkspawn. "Not sure why I expected elven darkspawn to be prettier than most – guess they fell out of an even uglier vat," she teased.

He bashed his shield against a frozen shriek. "What they lack in looks they make up for in volume," Garret grumbled. "My ears feel like they're about to bleed."

She tore a bit of the feathery fletching with her teeth and nocked two arrows when the ogre picked up a boulder to throw it. She loosed them before he'd brought his arms up all the way. The arrows skimmed just under the lifting rock, impaling his eyes. He went down under the weight of the boulder.

"How the sodding hell did you do that?" Oghren asked as he swung his battle ax to take off a genlock's head.

"Lucky shot?" she asked as she aimed for a shriek's head.

As the last one fell they took a small side tunnel to get back to the main road.

"Brontos?" She released a harsh breath. That's all they needed. "Garrett, Oghren – try to keep the bronto focused on you. We don't have the armor to handle an impact. Focus on the bronto first, everyone, then game as usual."

Further down, where the road bisected the first main road in the thaig, they had two brontos to deal with. Now the warriors had to split up and try to keep the brontos focused on them, while the rest of the part whittled away at them. Since arrows weren't much use against the tough hide of the brontos and their eyes were too small and shielded, she focused on the rest of the darkspawn while her party handled the raging beasts.

In the end, they had to backtrack a bit since the road forward was blocked. They slipped through a small tunnel's loops and bends, reminding her of a river. But in this river darkspawn rather than fish swam. They finally exited back onto the main road and followed it to the outskirts of Ortan Thaig.

"By the tits of my ancestors, Ortan Thaig. I never thought I'd see this place in the flesh. I can see Branka all over this place. She always took chips from the walls at regular intervals when she was in a new tunnel to check their composition. If she was still here, though, she'd have sentries out by now."

As they headed deeper in, another collapse forced then to veer into a right, side tunnel. Webbing dotted the tunnel and the floor. It was more than obvious what creatures made their home here. While they tried to avoid stepping on the webbing, not only because it was sticky but it would also draw the spiders' attention. Needless to say, they'd come to an area of web that was too far to span and the spiders happily came to investigate their supper. By the wrapped pods, it was obvious some did not make it past them. Whether they were people or darkspawn would go unanswered since they liquefied most parts of their meal.

The soft arachnid bodies made them easy to kill, so long as you avoided the sharp, pointy bits. Too soon, the floor became slick with spider gore, but they were able to continue on through another small passage that led to a much larger chamber where a fight was ensuing between spider and darkspawn, to include an ogre. She smiled, remembering how much Alistair just loved ogres.

They watched until the numbers of enemies dwindled and only a few darkspawn remained. As the others in their group rushed in, she and Morrigan stayed back to do what they did best…death at range. Battle could be heard further into the chamber as well. After they were finished here, they moved further into the cavern but stopped to watch the last of the spiders go down to the darkspawn. In such a battle, she couldn't help but wonder if they mutually poisoned each other. She nodded to her group to engage the remaining darkspawn.

Their path narrowed once more and they followed until it forked. They saw a spider run down the right branch of the fork. The fact that it was running away, instead of attacking them, made its movements all the more suspicious. She jerked her head to the left and continued down the left branch. It led into the thaig, a very large open area with buildings, homes, statues and fallen rubble. It also had less savory sorts, such as tangible spirits and a large, stone golem. "Morrigan – work on weakening the golem. My arrows will be no more than gnat kisses to the likes of him. We'll take care of the spirits." Normally, spirits couldn't interact with anything around them, their bodies being no more than an echo of their past life. But these were oddly tangible. Her arrows lodged in their bodies and it was obvious that steel could amputate ghostly limbs. How was that even possible? Some things simply had to be believed, even if they didn't make logical sense.

"Garrett! Whenever Morrigan freezes the golem, bash him with your shield – it might take a few times, but he should shatter into pebbles." She rolled out of the way to avoid a hurled stone. After the spirits were taken care of, sparks were flying off the golem with each attack of blade. The golem was frozen again, this time when Garret bashed it with his shield there was a rumble of pebbles as the golem fell apart. The only additional enemies they had to face were cave spiders.

From out of nowhere a bear charged the spiders, rising on its hind legs to throw all of its weight forward, bursting the spider's body in a spray of slimy ichor. She waved her party off the bear when she noticed Morrigan was nowhere to be found and began aiming at the spiders once more. The bear continued to run around the thaig, popping any spider she could find.

She turned in the direction of a scream and saw a man dart into a side passage. "You scared that poor man more than the darkspawn, Morrigan!"

In a flash of colored mist, Morrigan returned to her natural form. "He is no more appetizing than the spiders."

She followed the man through passageway until he spun around to confront them.

"There's nothing for you here! It's mine! I've claimed it! Ruck warned. They can't have my precious.

Something was very off about the man. "I'm Syn – and rest assured I do not want your things. Does your clan still live here?" she asked as soothingly as she could.

"The clan? No, no, but it's still mine! Ruck's been here for years now, and no city dwarf will take him away!"

"I feel the taint in him," Talyn murmured.

"He's a bloody scavenger, good as sodding gone," Oghren agreed.

"Begone, pretty lady! You'll bring the dark ones back, you will! They'll crunch your bones!" he warned.

Oghren sighed. "Word has it you can only survive down here by eating the darkspawn dead."

"It burns when it goes down. It burns!" They must go. They must go. "It's my claim, not yours! Crunch your bones!" No…no…bad things coming.

She watched the man dart away and then heard the hissing behind her. Goodie. More spiders. But, as always they went down easy.

Oghren leaned on his ax and looked at Syn. "How is it that you never run out of arrows?"

A soft laugh bubbled out. "Horn 'O Plenty."

He smirked at her. "You're my kinda woman. I'm horny plenty too. Maybe we could -"

A smile curled on Zevran's lips. If you didn't know him, you might think it was friendly. "You are best served forgetting that thought, my friend. I would hate to discover you'd been killed in your sleep."

His gaze moved from the elf to Syn. "So that's the way of it. Well, all sodding right." He looked over at Thana. "Maybe - "

Thana shook her head. He was the farthest thing from her type. "Not going to happen. Ever."

A secret thrill raced down her back at Zevran's words. "Horn OF Plenty, Oghren. It's a rune that my quiver was enchanted with."

He pulled his flask and took a sip. "Sounds like something my flask needs." He belched, capped his flask and put it away.

Syn rolled her eyes. That was the last thing any of them needed to happen. "I'll pay to augment your armor or your weapons, but I will not pay to enchant your flask. Sorry, Oghren, your shit out of luck."

He belched again and then chuckled. "I like a feisty woman. You're easy on the eyes too."

Zevran took a step closer to Syn and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Such pretty eyes are far better off looking elsewhere, my good man. I'm sure we already discussed that, yes? It would be a shame to lose something so pretty, don't you agree?" He asked, his voice as sharp as his wit.

Syn spun around, yanked down on the neck of his armor and rewarded him with a hungry kiss when he dropped to his knees.

Garret clapped Oghren on the back. "She's taken, but there'll be others." He knew she'd never be his, but that did not stop the need to have her.

"She's too small boned for me anyway; I'd probably break her in half," he groused. "Felsi…now Felsi is thick, like a woman ought to be, and feisty brand at that. She can't get enough of me."

Garrett could see nothing wrong with Syn or her sister. They didn't look like typical dwarven women, but they had a spritely appeal with large breasts and sweet hips. They were very desirable women. But he could certainly understand Oghren's need to save face. "Of course she can't. We'll see about finding her when we're done here, if the boss is okay with that."

Syn pulled back, flicked her tongue against her lover's upper lip and winked at him before she turned around. "Where is she at, Oghren?" she asked curiously.

"She works at a tavern near the Lake Cleanbad's docks," he told her.

She grinned. Lake Cleanbad. Calenhad was on their way back to the main camp. "That's on our way back to the main camp. If you're still with us, we can stop by and see your Felsi. I think that...uh…is probably a prudent choice." Before he ended up on the wrong end of a dagger. "Now, let's find out where Ruck took off to."

The narrow passageway ended at a chamber. A rather homey looking camp sight, filled with what looked like everything Ruck could find that wasn't nailed down. She scanned the cmap and saw him warming his hands by the fire.

Ruck looked up and took a step back. "Go away! This is mine! Only I gets to plunder its riches!"

"I'm not after your riches, Ruck. Was this Branka's campsite?" she asked gently.

He didn't remember…it was so hard to remember. "It's mine! I'm the one who found it. I drove out the crawlers. Now it's mine!"

"It's okay, Rusk. I told you – I'm not going to steal your treasures. They belong to you," she said softly.

He grinned. "Pretty lady…pretty eyes…blue as the deepest rock…pretty hair…light as the sun…smells like moss flowers. So…the pretty lady won't take anything from Ruck? You won't take Ruck's shiney worms and pretty rocks?"

"No, honey. I won't take anything. Perhaps talk…or trade…but that is all. No stealing, I promise," she assured him.

"Pretty lady is good. Ruck not mind that."

She smiled kindly, though her heart was breaking for what had become of him. "What do you have to trade, honey?" She wasn't sure why she called him that, perhaps because he reminded her of a child.

He nodded. "Ruck has some things. From the camp, sometimes the webs. You give him shiny coins, no?"

"Of course I will." She ended up purchasing a fair amount of mushrooms from him. They were light, and could be chewed on for boost of energy. "Thank you, honey. Are you alone here?"

He smiled and tried to keep his body from swaying. "Not alone – pretty lady is with Ruck."

"How come you're not threatening _him_ with death?" Oghren grumbled.

Zevran frowned. "His suffering is worse than anything I could do," he said quietly.

She smiled at Ruck. "You're right, I am. But I cannot stay."

He looked into the fire. He would be alone again. His gaze rose to meet hers. "Ruck will think about you when you are gone."

That broke her heart. "What about your family? Do you have a mother or - "

His body spasmed in pain. No! Not mother! "N-n-n-no. No Filda. No mother. No warm blanket and stew and pillow and soft words! Ruck doesn't deserve good memories. No-no-no-no-no…"

Poor man. "I'm sure she's very worried about you, Ruck," she replied softly.

"Sh-she did not know, not what I did. I was very, very, very, very angry and then someone was dead. They wanted to send Ruck to the mines. If I went to the mines, sh-she would know. Everyone would know. So I came here, instead. Once you eat…once you takes in the darkness…you not miss the light so much. But…but I would miss the light of pretty lady's hair. Yes, I would." He looked at the elf. "You know, do you not? Ruck sees, yes. He sees the darkness inside of you."

Tayln frowned but kept his lips closed. Syn was handling the man well; he did not need to drop a rock in the lake.

"Do you want me to tell your mother that you're still alive?"

"No, no, no! She cannot know…She remembers a boy, a little boy with bright eyes and a hammer and she cannot see this! Swear – promise -vow you won't tell!"

He could never leave the Deep Roads, he would be killed. His mother wouldn't survive the Deep Roads and if she died down here…no, that would only hurt Ruck more. But to leave him here alone…There were no good answers. "Would you rather she think you were dead?"

He smiled. "Yes, yes, pretty lady! Tell the mother Ruck is dead. He's dead and his bones are rotting in the crawlers' webs and she should never look again. Never look. Not safe."

She nodded. "All right, Ruck. I'll do as you ask, if it will make you feel better." The taint would kill him eventually – or the darkspawn would. Perhaps, it would be a mercy to kill him now. But he still had feelings; he still found joy in little things. Most important, he did not ask to be released from life. He wanted to live and she could not take that from him.

"Pretty lady is like mother. Too good, too pretty for the darkness. Pretty lady shouldn't be here – shouldn't be with Ruck."

"Ruck – I need to go, but I'll be back when I can. When I come, I will bring you a pillow and blanket and some stew, ok? And if you swear – promise-vow that you won't eat him, I'll bring you a pet, so that you will not be alone. You will have a friend."

"Ruck – Ruck doesn't deserve a friend. Ruck did bad," he said with solemnly.

She shook her head. "That's not true. Sometimes bad things happen. Things we don't mean to happen. But you have a good heart, Ruck. You deserve friends. My name is Syn. I'm your friend, Ruck. But I'd like for you to have a friend that can stay with you."

"Pretty lady…pretty words…pretty heart. Ruck not eat friend. I swear – promise-vow. Ruck will think about you, pretty Syn."

"I'll see you when I can, Ruck." She nodded to the party. With a heavy heart she left his camp.

"What kind of pet could survive down here?" Thana asked her.

"A nug," she said with a grin. "They can survive on the moss and the mushrooms and they are easily trained. They make good pets. No one deserves to be alone."

Oghren grunted. She should have killed him, it would have been the merciful thing to do. "Looks like that bone-picker is living in Branka's old camp. Did you see the marks on the floor? There were a lot of people and fires there once. Now I know she's not here anymore. She'd never let something like that sleep in the same spot as she did."

There were a couple of chests she spotted when she got back to the main town. The only thing interesting was an old scroll, sealed over in wax to protect it. How long had it been here? No matter, she would look at it later. Finding nothing else of interest she headed for the bridge. As they approached the bridge a stone golem rushed towards. She really hated those things. Made her wish they had more mages in their group. Far easier than whacking steel against stone; which felt like an incredibly fruitless endeavor. Mainly, they just kept him engaged while Morrigan used her magic.

By the time it started moving slower and stumbling, sprits came out to play. While Oghren and Garret kept stoneface busy for Morrigan, the rest of them played pin the dagger on the spook. Though still puzzling how they cold interact with each other at all, at least it was rewarding to watch the spooks go 'poof'. If only all enemies could be so considerate, instead of leaving behind decomposing, nauseating corpses.

On the other side of the bridge they found an exit tunnel that curled around to another open area, but they had to fight another golem and more spooks to get there. The tunnel, itself, seemed to be filled with cave spiders, but they slid up their webbing and disappeared out of sight. They took a moment to grab something to eat before continuing to the other side. They crossed a bridge coming out of the tunnel and that was when the cave spiders attacked. Not from behind, but new spiders that were ahead of them. It would appear, that for now, her job was to do or die…not to wonder why.

"You know, my dear, you do know how to work up a man's many appetites – violence...pleasure…" he commented as he tugged his feet to free it from its sticky bondage. "I can think of some interesting uses for silk such as this."

She glanced over and saw the wicked gleam in Zevran's eyes and the suggestive smirk that teased his lips. The man truly had a one track mind…even in the midst of spider guts. "I'm game."

His laughter was rich and hearty. Not for a moment did he think he made the wrong choice to stay with her. She was delightfully unpredictable. Except when it came to sex. Oh, not in the act – he never knew what to expect from her with it came pleasure, but she was always eager. That – now that was dependable. "That's what I love about you, my dear. A fearless and wicked Syn…born to drive men wild."

The sound of Oghren's laugh was deep and guttural as his ax swung down to remove the head off an advancing spider. "You got that right! Why I want to - "

"Oghren!"

He wasn't sure who to look at, since the warning had been a chorus of voices. "I know…I know," he grumped. "She's taken." His gaze found Syn's. "Why him?" he asked, motioning to Zevran with his thumb.

"Do you mean, why not with a married man such as yourself?" she asked him pointedly.

Oghren grunted. "The sodding nug-headed woman left me," he groused.

She shook her head and shot him a stern look. "It doesn't matter. You're still married and you're not my type."

He lowered his ax. "What's that supposed to mean? You would choose an elf over your own kind?"

Of course she wouldn't. Would she? There was certainly no comparison between Zevran and Oghren. "That would depend on the man. You, Oghren, are married, course, obnoxious and have the manners of a bronto," she told him matter of fact.

That made him laugh. "That's why the women can't get enough of me."

She released a slow, steadying breath. Some people had heads as hard as the stone they were standing on. "But that is precisely why you are not _my_ type."

"What about Garrett? At least he's a dwarf – and your type," he pointed out.

Oghren didn't know Garrett was casteless or he likely wouldn't have brought it up. Then again, this was Oghren. "You are right. He is attractive and my type, but I'm with Zevran. We made a vow to each other and I intend to keep it."

Oghren's eyes opened wide in shock and he choked until Tayln slapped his back. He sucked in a breath. "You can't marry an elf if you want the throne!"

She blinked and slammed her mouth shut. Marry? That wasn't the kind of vow she'd meant. But it was true that Orzammar would never accept her as queen if she married someone other than a dwarf. "We aren't married - he never asked me," she teased. "We have an arrangement that benefits us both. But I will marry who I fall in love with, be it an elf, a human or a dwarf. There is reality and there are… _appearances_ in Orzammar. They need not be the same thing," she explained.

That, he hadn't expected to hear. "I didn't think you had it in you," Oghren admitted.

"With a name like Syn?" she teased with an arched brow.

-BREAK SEVEN-

Garrett studied Syn in a way he hadn't before. Exiled or not, she was of noble birth and was going to try to clear her name and take the throne. He was a casteless nobody and she would never be his…or so he thought. But she found him attractive _and_ her type. Those were two things he hadn't expected to find out. And she was willing to marry whomever she fell in love with. "So, for example, if I was to woo your heart and you fell in love with me, you'd marry me? But since I'm not of noble caste, you'd also marry a noble for the sake of appearance? How far would you go for the sake of appearance?" In such a situation, he would not wish to share her with another. He couldn't imagine that would be easy for any man.

She couldn't stop herself from looking him over. He was strikingly handsome – almost pretty for a dwarf. Dark red hair that had been cut to shoulder length, large, expressive emerald eyes, sitting above a straight, narrow nose any human noble would want to have grace their face. His cheeks were chiseled, his jaw squared and his lips were full and firm. He was far better looking than his sister. It must have been hard on him growing up. But regardless of caste and what might have happened to him, he was strong and sure of himself. "Not as far as you'd think. I'm a one man kind of woman. If you won my heart and I married you, yes I'd have to marry a noble - but it would be a marriage in name only. He'd make appearances with me and nothing more."

"What kind of noble would accept such an arrangement?" He couldn't imagine any nobleman doing such a thing.

A smile slowly dawned on her lips. "A man who preferred the company of someone _other_ than a woman. For instance, if I married you, I'd probably ask Tanok Helmi. He has red hair, so if I birthed a red haired child, no brows would be raised. Tanok would join the Royal House and earn respect by _fathering_ children, while discretely living the life he wants behind closed doors. The only one that it wouldn't be fair to is you. You would be married to the queen, but unable to claim the status. However, you would be the _only_ one making love to me and you'd be the real father of our children. You would also be moved to the Royal House as my second, so no one would question why you were always at my side. If you chose to marry someone for appearances, I would help you find someone. But I would _never_ accept infidelity – not even once…for any reason," she told him point blank. "That's the best I can do until things change at Orzammar – and that kind of change won't happen overnight." Oh, hell no. She was going to be in the uphill battle of her life when it came to that particular kind of change.

Zevran knew the words she spoke were only spoken as an example, but he oddly didn't like her talking about making love to another man. That was not like him. He was not the jealous or possessive type. But nor could he keep his mouth closed, much to his chagrin. Not after he saw the heat kindle in the man's eyes. "You realize Syn and I have made a vow to each other, yes?" he asked softly.

Garrett's cheek ticked. He didn't much care if he was stepping on the elf's toes. He'd wanted her for too long and it looked like he may even stand a chance getting her. All was fair in love and war. He squared his shoulders and did not take his eyes from the elf. "I am aware. I am also aware you are not married, that gives me the right to woo her. Wooing does not have to mean bedding. I will respect that boundary until such the time that you either wed her or deny her…or until she ends things with you."

He did not like hearing those words, but there was little he could do about it. While Syn might not mind if Oghren disappeared, he doubted she'd forgive him for Garrett's death. She saved Garrett and she felt responsible for him, perhaps cared about him. He did not like competition. Most that chose to compete against him directly were never found again. What he had with Syn might have been casual, but he was not ready to end it with her – not while she still made his blood burn with need. "Why don't you woo Thana. She is just as breathtaking as her sister," he pointed out.

"Why don't you?" Garrett shot back. "Thana is beautiful, there is no denying that. She is a sweet, courageous woman any man would be lucky to have. But it is the fire that burns in Syn that draws me to its heat. It was long too late by the time I met Thana," he admitted.

Rather than being hurt, Thana was relieved. She was not interested in a relationship of any kind right now. She'd just lost her mother, just found her sister and just discovered who she really was. That was more than enough for her to deal with at the moment. "Please leave me out of this. I don't want a relationship right now, casual or otherwise. But I won't turn down friendship," she amended.

Syn noticed the rest of the party had spread out to go through chests and to see what else they could find - even Oghren, which was probably for the best – considering he had a way of finding trouble. And she needed to keep everyone working nicely together. Now she had to worry about Garrett too. Not in the causing trouble just to cause trouble kind of way. But he'd made his intensions clear. And his words did make her consider the future. She hadn't thought that far ahead until he'd asked her for specifics. If…no…when she got her throne back, she would be expected to wed and produce heirs – even if that's not how the next king or queen would be chosen. It didn't matter how much she was beginning to like the wily elf, she knew it would never last. He'd never be willing to follow her to Orzammar or tie himself to one woman for long. They were on borrowed time together and eventually, she'd have to find someone else. But she was not sure if Garrett was in his right mind. He'd been through hell and she'd rescued him. No relationship could be built on that alone or it would crumble.

She saw a burst of color, followed by Oghren's battle cry. She guessed he found trouble again. She darted around the others, grabbing an arrow from her quiver as she came around the side of the ancient stone building to see genlock emissary firing magic. She loosed her arrow and he jolted back. She had been too far away to see his eyes with that strange helmet-thing he had on his head. She pulled another arrow, but by then the others had already taken care of him.

They'd barely gotten time to breathe when a nest of spiders slipped down from the rocks above, to include a much larger one…perhaps a spider queen - or their mother. Did spiders even have queens? It didn't matter. What mattered was that she meant business and the normal sized cave spiders were coming to her defense. The fight was on in earnest now. "Morrigan – focus on us…we'll do what we can to keep them away from you." As her arrows flew, she could swear she heard Morrigan grumbling about how she wasn't a healer. But she was – at least when they needed her to be. She hadn't let them down yet.

Since the warriors couldn't taunt these enemies into battle, they ran through the sticky spider webs to draw their interest and Garrett frequently slammed his sword against his shield to make a loud, vibrating noise. That seemed to work the best at getting their attention. The others would sneak up from behind to lacerate their abdomens. Their only successful strikes where when the warriors had the spiders completely engaged or the spiders would feel their movement through the stone. She occasionally heard Oghren curse. He didn't have the protection of a shield, so was hit more often with their little darts of hair. Nothing poisonous, but they were itchy and irritating to the skin.

Before the chamber was cleared out, they also had to mop up a couple of darkspawn. Once they had time to actually look around, a table was found with what looked to be Branka's Journal. In it, she'd written that she'd found evidence that the Anvil had not been built in the Ortan Thaig. She mentioned the Anvil was somewhere beyond the Dead Trenches. Which meant they had at least two more thaigs to traverse. Apparently, her soldiers were calling her mad, because of the darkspawn filled the Dead Trenches. Ah…that was why she left the journal behind – in case she died in the Trenches. "She wanted someone to know she'd gone into the Dead Trenches and that the Anvil lay beyond that. That means we have another two thaigs to get through. She mentioned you at the end, Oghren."

He smiled. "She was thinking of me. I knew she still cared. Looks like the Dead Trenches is our next stop. They say the darkspawn nest there. Whole herds of them. But if that's where Branka went – that's where I'm going."

She handed Branka's journal to Oghren. He was her husband, he deserved to have it. Once out of her hands, she rolled her neck and stretched her shoulders. A sigh slipped from her lips and her eyes slid closed when she felt Zevran's experienced fingers kneed the sore knots from her flesh. "What would I do without you?" The words mumbled from her lips before she could call them back. "You know what I mean…" she said quickly, though she was unable to hide the flare of pink in her cheeks.

He pulled the back of her hair over her shoulder, bent low to nip the crook of her neck and her shiver made him realize how much he wanted to make love to her but could not. They could not remove their armor or become too distracted in this place. But that knowledge did not make the desire any less. "I understand precisely, my dear. And were we elsewhere I would strip the armor from your exquisite body and I would massage every inch of your supple skin. First with my hands – then with my…tongue." He flicked his tongue along the shell of her ear. The sound of her soft moan sent blood straight to his groin. He could not stop himself from shooting a triumphant look at Garrett. He was rewarded by the man's scowl. Maybe the dwarf would try to woo her with pretty words, but he didn't have the right to touch her. And for now, he would do what he could to keep it that way.

She blinked and fanned her face. It was getting hot in here. Or maybe she was getting hot. If only she could put herself into his amazing hands…and that tongue…It may not be as long as Kadar's, but it was dexterous as sin. Stone help you, Syn…get a grip. She cleared her throat. "We are going to push forward into the next thaig. If we cannot find a relatively safe place to camp for the night, we'll return here. There is no way I will risk us to fighting tired. We'll get an early start in the morning. We'll have one more day to get through before we have to return to Pyral. Hopefully, with good news."

She led them through a tunnel that led farther into the Deep Roads. They came out into a massive cavern, of which they were at the top of a steep cliff. She could hear a distant clang and moved to the edge of the cliff to look down to see what was causing the din. Below was an army of darkspawn. There were far too few of them to confront that kind of army head on.

Oghren drank in the sight before him. "Bownammar. I thought it would have fallen into dust by now." But it had survived and it was teaming with darkspawn.

She stumbled backwards, knocking into Garrett, who's hands came up to steady her as the archdemon launched from below and flew over their heads to land on the bridge they were needing to cross. Its roar reverberated throughout the massive cavern. She could feel the cliff vibrate beneath her feet. She was unaware Zevran's hand had brushed away Garrett's until he pulled her against his side and moved her further from the edge.

"I don't even know how to fight that thing," Tayln admitted. "The war started right after I joined…Duncan wasn't able to tell us much."

She nodded and looked over her group. "Then hopefully we won't be forced into a confrontation. Especially down here – there are just too many of them." They watched the dragon fly off through the caverns. "Let's get to that bridge before she returns."

They could hear the sounds of fighting as they got closer to the bridge. Dwarves were fighting darkspawn. They broke into a run and joined into the skirmish. Together with the group of five dwarves, they fought their way across the bridge. An ogre stepped out of giant doors that slammed shut with finality behind him. The warriors took on the ogre while the rest of them worked on taking out the smaller darkspawn.

By the time the last of the darkspawn fell she knew they were done for the night. One of the dwarves approached her.

"Well, Syn, I'll give you credit for backbone. You've dug a line through the spawn. No sense in your head, but you've got skill." He ignored the affronted look on her face. "Wonder what your life would be like if you had stayed in Orzammar? Few others of our kind would have you. You would have likely found your way to us, the Legion of the Dead. We accept anyone, and are revered in advance as heroes who have and will die in glorious battle. Even murderers. Our oath ignores caste, family, history. It lets us act without distraction. Despite what we might have thought of you in life."

She scowled at the dwarven leader. "Then Bhelen would surely be welcome among you – because he's the one that killed Trian. I had no reason to kill him, though Trian may have wished to kill me. Father was going to put me forth as his successor. Bhelen played us all. He will not do so again."

Where had he heard those words before? They were the litany of many of his men. "The Legion knows those words well. It's the song of the recruit hoping for a way back to caste and honor. They get their head out of smoke and accept their fate, or the Stone takes them."

Well, she thought, this was getting nowhere fast. "The truth will come out. Have you heard of the Anvil of the Void?" Maybe she could get something out of him besides condemnation.

He smirked. "Like dusters have heard of respect. Never seen it and if it exists it wasn't meant for me. But if you're looking for Paragons, you may as well look for the anvil. And endless lyrium."

"All things change…given time," she told him.

He grunted at the absurdity of her words. "Ha! You don't believe that. You haven't been gone that long. This is Orzammar."

Oh, she believed it. "My butt hasn't warmed the throne yet."

He laughed so hard he had to hold his chest and gasp for air. "It never will. No matter your grand aspirations, _princess_ , you are as dead to those above as any duster."

Her arms folded under her chest. "I don't die very easily. I have…plans. You don't have to believe – but you _will_ see." But, again, she knew there was little she could say. Some things had to be proven to be believed. "My friends and I are going to camp here for the night before going on. We've fought through two thaigs and we need rest – if you do not mind us joining your camp."

He nodded. "Come then. Share our fire. We can take turns on lookout." He turned away from her and motioned her to follow as he headed back across the bridge.

A fire was struck and they shared their food with the Legion. They probably didn't get the opportunity to go up to the Commons very often. Once they'd settled in around the fire, some of the Legion were willing to open up about what it was like to live down here. Some of them even spoke of their past lives before they _died_. Whenever someone joined the Legion, a funeral was held to represent the death of the newcomer's past life.

Since the Legion didn't seem to care about what was happening on the surface, she didn't volunteer any information. At least until she was asked. She caught Tayln studying Zevran as she talked about the rightful king and queen and everything they were doing to help him regain his throne and fight the blight. She too had been concerned about saying more. But Zevran obviously wasn't going anywhere in a hurry and…she found that she was coming to trust him. In the end, if he passed Lor's test, he would be allowed to join them. If he failed, he'd likely be killed.

Throughout the night they were up in pairs, an hour each. Ohgren ended up the lone man out and he buddied up with one of the Legion, since there were five of them. Thus, everyone was able to get a decent night's sleep.

When she's fallen asleep, Zevran was curled around her back and Garrett had his back to her – though nowhere near touching her. When she woke up, Zev was still curled around her – his hand resting just below her breasts, but Garret was facing her and when his eyes opened she was looking into his emerald eyes. It became more awkward when Zev's hand started groping her breast. The man did wake up with needs. Needs she shared, but they were in no position to give into wake-up passion. She lifted his hand from her breast and settled it back to its previous location. She grinned when he groaned in frustration. She patted his hand and sat up to break the awkward look. Garrett was disturbingly handsome. If she'd met him first…but she hadn't and she was already starting to develop feelings for Zev. Problem was - she knew that was a very bad idea on all fronts. She thought she could handle the relationship, after all – she hadn't developed feelings for Gorim. Why was Zev different? Was it because he was forbidden? Or because she knew he'd never stick around? Did that make him more desirable? If she ended the arrangement with him and started something with Garrett, would her feelings for Garrett stay safely in check like they had with Gorim?

Garrett smiled warmly. The look in her eyes showed she was not immune to him. "Good morning, Syn. I've never awoken to such a beautiful sight before. You are like a breath of fresh air. Now I know what mornings are like on the surface. The sun shines in your hair and the sky lights up your eyes."

His words melted her. She'd never met a dwarf that knew how to romantically woo a woman. She had to admit she was intrigued and even attracted to him. A woman would have to be dead not to be attracted to an attractive man. Her gaze dropped to his lips, which parted beneath her perusal. "You are good…" she admitted softly.

It would seem the dwarf wasted no time in his wooing. Zevran hook his arm around her and leaned her back. "But I am better…" He claimed her lips in a searing kiss, her hunger matching his without fail. He'd never had to coax or tease her into a response. She burned hot and ignited into an inferno of passion, leaving him burning in flames he could not control.

Thana watched the scene play out. She saw the pain etched in Garrett's face before he turned in her direction to eat breakfast. She couldn't imagine what it was like to see someone you liked with another. She doubted anything good would come of this triangle. When Zevran's hand started traveling her sister's armor clad body, Thana rose and poured some of her water down the back of his neck. When he jerked back she laughed. "You need to eat breakfast so we can leave," she pointed out. She returned to her place next to Garrett to talk quietly with him while she, too, ate.

After breakfast, they said their goodbye's to the Legion and crossed the bridge once more. This time there were no darkspawn to greet them. But, no doubt, that would not last for long. The Legion's leader had told her that since they couldn't get through the doors, they would need to go the long way. There was entryway just north of the doors, so they took it. At the end of the winding tunnel they had to fight their way through them until the broken road resumed and opened into a large. The Dead Trenches, or Bownammar, was once the Legion's headquarters, but it was claimed by darkspawn now.

In the large room, they met with another battle. To include a bronto who was irritated with everyone. They let the bronto battle the darkspawn and focused on the others that weren't engaged with the enraged beast. When the room was finally cleaned out, it was disappointing to discover another collapsed bridge. Again, they would have to go the long way.

She felt little need to disturb the dead, so they continued through the far door to advance further into the catacombs. She disabled the pressure plate trap that barred their way, and fought off another group of darkspawn. The hall forward was laced with pressure traps, but they were easy to skirt, they just had to be careful during fighting to ensure they weren't backed up onto them. The corridor had a fissure in the wall and they slipped through it to continue onwards.

When they'd nearly reached the end of the dusty tunnel, they encountered another group of darkspawn that were heading in their direction. Today was much easier emotionally. Her sister and Garrett had more than proven themselves and she no longer had to divide her attention to make sure they were okay. She focused her arrows on the emissary and then the spiders that had dropped down looking for an easy meal.

They slipped through another crevice and were back onto stone flooring. She held her hands out to keep everyone back while she disabled a tripwire. Since they failed to fall for the trap, the darkspwan rushed them, but the tainted creatures were badly outnumbered, even when two shrieks appeared from nowhere.

"There are more darkspawn to the south," Tayln informed her with a motion of his hand

She looked to the south and then shook her head. "We don't have time to play and we're not here to clean out the deep roads. If we can avoid them, then we should. I'm not quite sure how we're going to make it back by tomorrow anyway."

With a nod he followed her through a door which led back out onto the bridge. The pathway leading east was once again demolished so they were forced to continue heading north. Always the long way because nothing could ever be easy. Half-way across the bridge, they were ambushed by four shrieks. She could only assume the shrieks forgot how to count or had no self-preservation instincts, attacking a party twice theirs in number. Had their party been smaller, the shrieks would have been more of a concern, but as it was damage they'd been able to do before being dispatched was to her ears.

She closed her eyes for a brief moment when she heard more shrieking. So the original shrieks had not been alone. If they'd have attacked together, the fight would have been more tenuous. As it was, it was still seven to four, but she doubted she was the only one with a raging headache.

They went through the door at the end of the bridge and exited into a medium sized chamber, that stank worse than anything they'd been through thus far. Then she noticed why. There were large globs of…meat? And this time it was skeletal dead that attached them. Her bow was useless in this instance, since skeletons had no vital organs. She slipped her daggers from their sheaths. "Off with their heads!"

Zevran rolled to the side to avoid a sword thrust and arched his sword out. The skeleton's leg skittered across the stone and its body crumpled. "You always say the most romantic things, my dear! I want to ravish you right now!" When it raised itself on its hands, he severed its head and spun to meat another.

"Keep your head in the game, Zev – ravishment later!" she warned with a grin as she slid between a skeleton's legs, twirled and sent its head flying. Somewhere there was a mage…or emissary controlling the dead. She looked around quickly and saw that Garrett had engaged the emissary to limit the damage it could do. She had to take shallow breaths through her mouth not to be overwhelmed by the stench. She rushed some dead that were getting to close to their only source of healing. It wasn't as though the darkspawn were going to quit fighting long enough for them to down potions.

-BREAK EIGHT-

At the northern end of the chamber there was a door that allowed them to finally head in an eastern direction. She hurried past an offshoot that led to the left, that is not where they needed to go and there was little sense wasting time. The exited the doorway to the right and the hall snaked around and led to another doorway. Her hand rose to her nose and she gagged at the rancid stench that permeated the new area. She glanced to the left, looked away, only to whip her head to the left again. A woman was there - eating the rotten globs of meat.

Hespith rose and turned to face the group. "What is this? Someone new? Impossible."

The woman was contorted in a similar way as Ruck, her face showing the devastating effects of the taint. She had to force herself not to wince. For some reason it looked worse on the woman's face.

Hespith looked at the floor, not wanting to believe her eyes. They'd waited so long to be found…to be saved. And now…now it was far too late. "Feeding time brings only kin and clan. I am cruel to myself. You are a dream of strangers' faces and open doors. First day, they come and catch everyone…The men's wounds festered and their minds left. They are like dogs, marched ahead, the first to die. Not us. Not me. Not Laryn. We are not cut. We are fed. Friends and flesh and blood and bile…and…all I could do was wish Laryn went first. I wished it upon so that I would be spared. But I had to watch. I had to see the change. How do you endure that? How did Branka endure? Branka…my lover, and I could not turn her. Forgive her…but no, she cannot be forgiven. Not for what she did. Not for what she has become. I will not turn!" No…she had to leave. Run…she would not turn… she could not…

Syn frowned when the woman ran off. What had Branka done? There were so many questions and so few answers. "Come on, maybe the answers lie ahead."

"Damn fool woman…" Oghren grumbled. "What did she do this time?"

But they had little time to contemplate. As soon the hall opened into a large room two ogres charged them. She pulled her bow. "Try to get them to face my direction!" There was no sense risking an injury if a well placed arrow could take them down quickly. And so long as she had a moment, she could do it.

When one of the ogre's froze, she darted into a facing position and aimed for his eye. She shot of a second arrow in little more than a blink, both sinking deep into its brain.

"Timber!" Zevran yelled in warning, before the ogre crashed to the ground.

They were trying to bait the other ogre into turning in her direction, but he wasn't being cooperative. Tayln launched himself into the air from behind the ogre, his daggers sinking into the ogre's back. He ignored the ogre's roar and twisted them to secure them between its ribs. With the others attacking from the front, there was little the ogre could do about the elf that clung to his back. Tayln pulled himself up on his daggers and propelled himself to its muscled neck. He latched around its neck with one arm and drew his sword. A massive, meaty hand was reaching back for him as he sliced the blade across its neck. The hand froze and then changed course to cover the wound in its neck. He brought his feet up to stand on the dagger hilts and swung his sword. The ogre's head somersaulted before it fell heavily to the stone. He back flipped off his dagger hilts, his knees bending to absorb the shock of the landing. When the ogre's body hit the ground, he turned his daggers and slipped them free of its back.

"Show off," Oghren grumbled.

Tayln laughed and wiped his sword and daggers on the ogre's loincloth. "I couldn't have done it if you hadn't have kept him occupied."

He grunted. "That's sodding right!"

"Very impressive, Tayln! Bet you are going to have a hard time peeling Morrigan off of you after that move," Syn teased.

"Indeed, he will," Morrigan agreed, looking her beautiful elven lover over. "My, my…you are just full of surprises. As graceful and deadly as you are beautiful." She knew how well he could kill, but she'd never seen him do anything like that before. That made him all the more appealing to her, on a deep and primal level. Oh yes…she wanted this man to sire her children some day.

He slipped his weapons into their sheaths, his gaze giving her a heated promise as he drew near. He pulled her into his arms to kiss her breathless. He trailed kisses over her jaw line to her ear. "The same is true for the woman I love." He tugged gently on her earlobe with his teeth and then flicked his tongue along the shell of her ear. Her moan and shiver brought his body to life and he released a ragged breath. "Soon…" he murmured before pulling back. Syn was returning with a frown on her face. "I take it the door would not open?"

"No." she grumbled. "Fan out everyone. If we can't find some way in, this has all been a waste of time. And that's not good enough."

They looked in every nook and cranny, opened every chest, even pilfered through the ogres' loincloths and that was something she could have lived her whole life without seeing.

"Over here!" Garrett yelled. "There's a room here! I see spirits, but they are not attacking."

Statues lined both sides the room, as did spirits. The spirits of the long dead dwarves these statues were made for? Who could say? But there was little else in the room except for an alter at the far back of the room. On the alter lay the key. She turned around, smiled, and held up the key. "With any luck, this will get us through those doors." She frowned when she saw the spirits draw their weapons and charge. She slipped the key between her breasts to hold it snuggly in place and drew her daggers. "Time to play."

For some odd reason, it bothered her to kill spirits more than it did to kill people. She couldn't explain why that was so, she couldn't even hazard a guess. But, perhaps now, the spirits could finally be at peace.

She hurried back out to the double doors. Before she could remove the key from between her breasts, Zevran reached between them to do it for her with a sly grin on his face. She plucked the key from his fingers with a humorous shake of her head and cheered when the tumblers gave way and the door opened.

As they moved down the hall she could hear Hespith talking to herself. When her foot sank into the floor, she picked it back up and took a step back. She looked down to see a gelatinous covering of meat and blood. The stench was more than her stomach could handle. She stepped away and her belly heaved up what was left of her breakfast. She tried not to listen at the sound of others doing the same thing. It smell…whatever it was, was worse than death…worse than rot. There were no words to describe the cloud of stench that bathed them.

Once they were ready, she led them across the spongy floor. She tried not to think about what they were stepping on. She heard a harsh wail and came to a dead stop when she saw the massive, tentacled, woman-spider-thing that had massive teats all the way down her belly to the meaty floor. That…that was what was causing the stench. But what was it?

There was little time to think, it attacked immediately. If you stood still, tentacles would shoot up from the meaty ground to pummel you or even grasp you in its coils. A well placed arrow or cut of a blade sent the tentacle skittering back into the ground. Oghren learned first-hand that you did not want to be too close to her teats when a foul gush of fluid was spewed from her mouth. Tayln and Zev had snuck to either side of her large, swollen, spider abdomen when she vomited on Oghren and sliced at the soft tissue as they dodged whipping tentacles.

Darkspawn ran down the ramps on either side of it, in response to its bellows, to attack their party. The thing was obviously female, but she had a hard time calling it a _she_. No, it would remain an _it_ to her. She kept her arrows trained on the tentacles. She'd nailed it in the eye, but it had not died, perhaps its brain was no longer in its head – or perhaps it never had been. Regardless, she focused on the tentacles so that her friends could focus on the darkspawn and the creature.

When she wasn't looking, one of the tentacles near the creature's belly had grabbed Zev. He was held high, his face turning blue as he was shaken back and forth. When she whipped him over the back of her head to throw him, she sent an arrow into the tentacle and she dropped him. He landed on her carapace and rolled down to her meaty shoulders. His daggers pierced through the middle of her neck and he swept them outwards, her head slid forward onto the tops of her mountainous breasts until a geyser of blood erupted from the stump of her neck. The head thumped down each pair of teats until it landed on the spongy ground, its empty eyes staring at a massive nipple.

Zevran, who'd finally caught his breath, slid down the large, sloping tentacle and hurried over to Syn's side. Once again, she'd saved his life. Once again, he owed her far more than he could repay. But it wasn't just about repayment. It was more than that. When he'd been in the grip of that tentacle all he could think about was her. Their moments together, their softly spoken words – it all flashed before his eyes. That was when he realized that he'd been jealous and protective because she meant more to him than just some casual fling. It wasn't that he just wasn't ready to end a good thing…he didn't want to end it at all. And that was both frightening and exhilarating at the same time. But those were thoughts he had to save for another time. He scooped her up in his arms and swung her around. Before he could pull her up for a kiss, he was getting thwacks on the back for a job well done. His mouth opened to tell her something of what he was feeling, but snapped shut when another voice was heard.

Hespith looked down at the conquerors and then at the broodmother. If only they had come sooner. "That's where they come from. That's why they hate us…that's why they need us. That's why they take us…that's why they feed us. But the true abomination…is not that it occurred, but that it was allowed. Branka…my love…The stone has punished me, dream-friend. I am dying of something worse than death. Betrayal." She closed her eyes and turned away from those that could not help her.

"So that creature spawned the darkspawn. But what did she mean by 'that's why they feed us'? What does eating darkspawn meat have to do with anything? We've already seen what happened to Ruck...what happened to Hespith. We've seen the effects of the ingestion of taint. It's like there's a piece of the puzzle still missing. And what did Branka allow to happen? Did she just give her House to the darkspawn?" She shook her head in confusion.

"No!" Oghren growled. "The Branka I know would never do that. She cares about her House. This must be destroying her. You should have taken me with, you sodding nug-humper."

All she could do was nod. She new next to nothing about the woman except that she'd created a smokeless fuel. They took the passage to the left of the dead creature.

They were getting close to his wife. He knew it. "If Branka is anywhere, this has to be it. She will not be unprepared."

As soon as they entered the next thaig, they must have triggered a trap. Debris fell behind them and now there was only one way out…forward.

Branka's eyes narrowed on the intruders, she did not have time for this sort of intrusion. She was close. She knew she was. And she needed more people to get through. She stepped forward. "Let me be blunt with you. After all this time, my tolerance for social graces is fairly limited. That doesn't bother you, I hope."

Oghren grinned. Branka. "Well, shave my back and call me an elf! Branka! By the stone, I barely recognized you!"

Ah…her ne're-do-well husband, in the flesh. "Oghren. It figures you'd eventually find your way here. Hopefully, you can find your way back more easily. And how shall I address you? Hired sword of the latest lordling to come looking for me? Or just a willing wench that didn't mind Oghren's ale-breath?"

"What are you saying you crazy woman – she's not with me! She's with the elf-" He blinked. "Or the other dwarf – don't know how that's gonna play out. And be respectful, woman! That's Syn Aeducan – ain't you got sodding eyes?" Oghren huffed.

Branka nodded. "Ah…so an important errand boy, then. I suppose something serious has happened. Is your daddy dead? That seems most likely. He was on the old and wheezy side."

She frowned at the woman's thoughtless, callous words. "Yes, my father is dead. The Assembly is deadlocked," she admitted.

She tilted her head. "You are…seeking my support? You wish to succeed Endrin and become a ruling queen? I don't care if the Assembly puts a drunken monkey on the throne. Because our protector, our great invention, the thing that once made our armies the envy of the world, is lost to the very darkspawn it should be fighting. The Anvil of the Void. The means by which the ancients forged their army of golems and held off the first archdemon ever to rise. It's here. So close I can taste it."

Syn crossed her arms under her ample breasts. "I would imagine if it were easy to get to you'd have done so by now. What's the catch?"

So the woman was more than some fancy title. "The anvil lies on the other side of a gauntlet of traps designed by Caridin himself. My people and I have given body and soul to unlocking its secrets. This is what's important. This has lasting meaning. If I succeed, the dwarven people benefit. Kings, politics…all that is transitory. I've given up everything and would sacrifice _anything_ to get the Avil of the Void."

She glared at the woman coldly. "So I have seen. Hespith…your House…they have seen too."

"Enough talk!" she said with a slice of her hand through the air. "If you wish me to get involved with this imbecilic elections, I must first have the Anvil. There's only one way out, princess. Forward. Through Caridin's maze and out to the where the Anvil waits."

That was not his wife. "What has this place done to you?! I remember marrying a girl you could talk to for one minute and see her brilliance."

She stared at her husband nonplussed. "I am your Paragon." She had been distracted long enough. She turned without another word and left them.

"Damned fool woman…" Oghren grumbled under his breath.

They located a path at the northern end of the chamber. It emptied out into chamber that appeared to have once been a camp for Branka's House, but now it was filled with darkspawn that had nothing better to do than die at their hands. The closer they advanced to the pathway they needed to reach, the more darkspawn came out to play. But these small gaps between battles at least allowed them to catch their breath. Even if only a small breath. And all through the fighting she could hear Branka going on and on, trying to justify what she'd done. There was no justification, she could talk until she was blue in the face and there would still be no justification for what she'd done…for what she allowed to happen. Hespith was correct. Some things could not be forgiven.

Once they reached the far exit, two ogres were charging towards them. She backed up and allowed the others to pass her. She settled in next to Morrigan, taking any shot she could, considering there was not room in the corridor for her seek out an eye shot. It didn't take long for more darkspawn to join in the fray.

They slowly inched their way down the narrow passage. Stepping over freshly dead, dwarven bodies and around downed golems. It would appear Branka's House put up quite a fight, but it mattered little in the end. They did not survive to tell the tale. The tunnel eventually opened up into chamber of death. Dead bodies lie everywhere. Gas seeped into the room. The hurried further into the room, which activated a golem. "I'll look for a way to shut off the gas – my arrows are useless in this fight."

She dodged a golem's stone fist and, her head swinging back and forth as she searched for anything that might turn off the noxious gas. She squinted her eyes in the thick fog. There! She hurried over to a lever. What it did, she wasn't sure. For all she knew it would drop the stones out from under their feet. But she had to do something. She tugged on the lever, by the third attempt there was a grinding noise as the lever gave way. There was a second one across the hall and she made a beeline, hoping she was making the right choice.

So far, so good. The gas was dissipating. But it was still too thick. She weaved between the golems to see if the other side of the room held similar levers. It did. She tugged them into place as well. Within minutes the gas was vented from the room. She looked around, stunned by the architecture around her. The clash of steel against stone brought her back to the present. She pulled her daggers and sighed. This was going to hurt. She charged.

Each time her dagger sparked off the stone, the impact reverberated up her arm in a painful jolt. There was little steel could do against stone, they were basically keeping the golems distracted why Morrigan worked her spells. The golems did not appear smart enough to figure that out. They cared more about smashing what was right in front of them than going after what was actually damaging them.

Occasionally, small chips would be chopped from the golem, but that was the extent of their efforts. Likely all of their steel would need sharpened after this trip through the Deep Roads. They took a moment to drink a healing potion to help conserve Morrigan's strength. It tasted like grass and sweat, but it did the job. They left via the far door and it entered into a short tunnel and then into a room lined with golems on each side. "Well, hell." She held her arms out. "There are traps down the middle. I'll disarm them and you…hope we don't awaken any golems."

They followed her past the first set of golems. As she disarmed the trap in the middle of the hall the second pair of golems activated. She ran forward and disarmed the second trap and then turned to help them with the golems. They passed by the third set of golems, barely daring to breathe…but they activated anyway. And they were back to chipping stone. The fourth set of golems did not activate and they breathed a sigh of relief as they left the chamber. "Do you need a moment to regain your strength?" she asked Morrigan.

That was kind of her to ask. She was uncertain she would have done the same, were their positions reversed. "That would please me." She took a moment to down a potion and chew on a mushroom. When she caught sight of a lyrium vein she stood over it, absorbing the wispy vapors that leaked from the vein. After a few minutes she nodded. "I am well enough to continue. You have my thanks."

Syn chuckled. "You do not need to thank me for caring about you, Morrigan." She inclined her head and hurried down the corridor.

Morrigan looked over at Tayln and caught his smile. She was coming to find that people were not at all what she thought they would be. These people that showed kindness…mercy. They should be weak, but they were not. It was something she was seeing over and over again throughout this…adventure. Mother would have…No! It did not matter what mother would have thought or said or done, this was _her_ life and she would be her own woman with her own thoughts.

"What in the name of the ancestors is that?" In the center of the room stood something that had stone faces on all sides. They eyes carved into the stone glowed with an eerie light. As she approached, the strange architecture turned, with a grating sound. A mist burst from the stone maw and a spirit appeared. Ok…that she hadn't expected. But it wasn't alone. Each of the mouths had vomited up a spook. "Pair up and stand facing one of the faces. I'm not sure what we're supposed to do here, but I would imagine we have to do it before we can move on."

In a blink, Garrett was beside her. She didn't catch the pained look on Zev's face when he was forced to stand with Thana; she was too busy using her daggers on the spectral attacker.

"I'll stand over here," Oghren groused. "All by my sodding self."

She laughed. "It's only because we know you hit harder than the rest of us, Oghren. You don't need a side-kick to send the spook back to the stone! You're a one-man army!" she cajoled and winked at Garrett.

"Ha! That's right, I am!" He shouted his battle cry and swung his heavy ax at the specter.

She looked around when the spook puffed into smoke. There was a slight vibration beneath her feet. She looked at Garrett who shrugged and then looked at the anvil. She followed the vibrations to the anvil. "Anyone got a hammer?" she teased.

Garrett slammed the tip of his pommel down on the anvil and a dark blast of energy shot from it and slammed into the face. "You're a genius!" She raised her voice. "Whenever you kill a spirit, hit the anvil! I'm not sure what it's doing, but the face doesn't appear to like it much."

There was another grinding noise as the heads turned again to regurgitate more spirits. After that round a couple of the faces' eyes were bleeding and shooting out defensive blasts of energy. As the rounds progressed, the eerie light vanished from the stone faces until a rush of power exploded from the architecture and it fell silent. She waited a moment longer and then shrugged. "I guess it's done playing with us. Does anyone want to take a moment? It seems relatively safe here."

There were murmurs of agreement and they dispersed to find a bit of privacy behind the many piles of stone. She was surprised when Zevran grabbed her arm and pulled her behind another such grouping of stones.

He picked her up and settled her back against a column of stone, pressed his body against hers to keep her in place and captured her lips, pouring his frustration and hunger into the kiss. Since she was shorter, he had to improvise. He raised his leg, pressing his shin against the cold stone and lowered his hands to grip her hips. He rocked her against the curve of his knee, careful to keep her pinned between him and the stone. He broke the kiss long enough to whisper everything he wanted to do to her, using teeth and tongue along the pulse beat in her neck as he rocked her against him. When her moans grew louder and her breathing harsh he kissed a path back to her lips to muffle the cry of her release. "I am yours…" he murmured against her lips before he lowered her back to the ground. He hadn't intended to say the words, but nor could he hold them at bay.

He lowered her to the ground before she could say anything in return. He wasn't sure just what he'd meant by the words and there was no time to think it over. "Take a moment," he said and moved off to find a rock of his own.

She blinked when he walked away and reached behind her to place her hands flush to the cool stone. What had that been about? He always saw to her needs first, but never went without himself. Her body was still quaking from the orgasm and she desperately needed to feel him inside her. He knew that, so why had he left? More important, why had he done that to begin with? On shaky legs she took care of business and rejoined the rest of her friends, who were taking a moment to grab a snack. She loosened the top of one of her pouches and took out a couple of dried mushrooms to nibble on. Her stomach was still not very happy after heaving so hard earlier. She popped the last bite into her mouth, took a swig from her waterskin and pushed the plug back into it. "With luck we are almost there."

Thana giggled. "Since when has luck had anything to do with it? I think we've had the opposite of luck so far," she pointed out with a smirk.

She arched a brow at her sister. "We are all still alive, might I point out. That is more than most can say this far into the Deep Roads. Besides, you are my sister and therefore it is against the law for you to dash my hopes."

Thana blinked and then burst out laughing. "Funny, Harrowmont did not mention that particular law. I should have words with him about that," she teased.

"You should," she said with a firm nod. "That was quite the oversight. Come on, everyone...," she motioned with her hand. "We've got a crazy woman and an Anvil to find." She glanced over at Zevran and noticed he seemed to be avoiding her gaze. No time to think about that now. She took the exit to the west. She smiled over at Garrett who had moved up to walk with her. "I'm glad you came along with us, Gar. For the company and the muscle." Her brows drew together. "Something about you is oddly familiar and I don't think it has to do with seeing your sister. But perhaps it is all in my head."

"It's not," he admitted, feeling his cheeks grow warm. "I came to see you every time I heard that you were in Dust Town. I wanted to make sure you were safe. You were far too beautiful to die trying to help us out in Dust Town." He rubbed the back of his neck. "You…uh…helped my mother out a few times. Food…clothes – I wanted to thank you…I didn't know how, so I kept you safe."

She could swear her grin reached from ear to ear. "I knew it! I mean, I didn't know it was _you_ , but there were times I knew we were going to be attacked by roughs, but it never happened. They disappeared one by one. I suppose I thought they decided not to mess with us – I should have known better." She shook her head over the thought that she and Gorim had scared them off after the first couple of battles they'd gotten into when they first went down to Dust Town. She ran back through the encounters and smiled. "I do remember seeing you a couple of times, but you slipped into the shadows before I could speak to you. Why? Why did you leave?"

Did she really not know? He tugged at the front of his armor, but no amount of fidgeting would relieve his discomfort. He cleared his throat. "I couldn't stay, because I couldn't hide what you made me feel. I fell in love with you. You were a princess. I was a casteless nobody. I did not belong in your world. Or so I believed then." He now knew that she was unlike anyone he'd ever met before. She didn't see him as a caste, she saw him as an equal.

He was in love with her? Had been for years? "For future reference, tell a girl how you feel. Maybe it will lead to something more, maybe it won't, but if you don't speak up, you'll never know. I would have liked to have met you back then," she admitted. He was far more romantic than Gorim had been.

"If I knew then what I know now, I'd have made sure we met. Are you in love with him?" he asked quietly.

"In love with Zev? I-" Was she? She felt the heat of a stare and shivered. She turned her head and briefly met Zevran's eyes. But he looked away before she could read what was in them.

Garrett nodded. "It is okay if you love him. A heart can hold a lot of love. And if I do not succeed in wooing you, at least this time I cannot say I didn't try."

-BREAK NINE-

The corridor opened up a large cavern. A waterfall of lava could be seen on the left. Large, lyrium veins snaked across the walls like frozen, blue glaciers of ice. Golems were scattered over the room, some lining either side of the door. She shivered, wondering if they would awaken as they walked between the rows of golems. But they remained still and she focused her attention on large, metal golem at the head of the columns.

This was an intriguing place. There was power in this place. "Branka must be close. How obsessed is she to have existed here for so long?"

Oghren grunted. "Obsessed enough to lose her sodding mind."

He looked over the group that had approached him. Few had made it this far – none had survived the encounter. "My name is Caridin. Once, longer ago than I care to think, I was a Paragon to the dwarves of Orzammar. If you seek the Anvil, then you must care about my story – or be doomed to relive it."

This was more than she expected to find. Caridin wasn't long dead – he was a massive golem. Why? "I am Syn Aeducan and you are Caridin. So it was you that made the Anvil."

"Though I made many things in my time, I rose to fame and earned my status based on a single item: the Anvil of the Void. It allowed me to forge a man of steel or stone, as flexible and clever as any soldier. As an army, they were invincible. But I told no one the cost. No mere smith, however skilled, has the power to create life. To make my golems live, I had to take their lives from elsewhere."

That did not sound like a very good idea. "That sounds ominous."

"The darkspawn were pressing in. Originally, I only took volunteers – the bravest of souls willing to trade their very lives for the chance to defend their homeland. But King Valtor became greedy. He began to force men…casteless and criminals…his political enemies…all of them were to be given to the Anvil. It took feeling the hammer's blow myself to realize the height of my crimes."

Volunteers she would condone, provided they did so knowing all the facts, but to force anyone…that was unforgivable. "It was unfortunate that you could not see sooner."

"Yes. The blow of the hammer opened my eyes. My apprentices knew enough to make me as I am, but not enough to fashion a control rod. I retained my mind. We have remained entombed here ever since; and I have sought a way to destroy the Anvil. Alas, I cannot do it myself. No golem can touch it."

Destroy the Anvil? After all she'd gone through to get it? After all she sacrificed? She pushed her feet to move faster. "No!" Branka yelled as she burst into the chamber. The Anvil is mine! No one will take it from me!"

"Do not allow the Anvil to fall into unthinking hands again!" Caridin begged. "I destroyed the control rods once, but if my apprentices learned how to replace the rods…then all they need is the Anvil to make all the slaves they need! This tragedy must not happen again! Syn! Please…help me destroy the Anvil! Do not let it enslave more souls than it already has!"

"I believe in what you are saying. But I need a Paragon's backing to help support a new king. Without that, the assembly will not agree to help fight the blight that ravages the surface. Will you help me too?" she asked point blank.

No! "Don't listen! He's been trapped here for a thousand years, stewing in his own madness. Help me claim the Anvil, and you will have an army like you've never seen!"

She turned and leveled a cold glare at the woman. "He is far more sane than you. I will not be a part of enslaving anyone. The cost of you getting the Avil is too high. I will not sell my soul for you!"

Could she see no reason? "Branka, you mad, bleeding nug-tail. Does this thing mean so much to you that you can't even see what you've lost to get it? Your House? Your sanity? Me?" This was Oghren's last attempt to reach her.

"Look around. Is this what our empire should look like? A crumbling tunnel filled with darkspawn spume? The Anvil will let us take back our glory!"

"At the cost of our souls!" Syn growled out in fury. "I won't do it!"

"Thank you, Syn Aeducan. Your compassion shames me," Caridin admitted.

Everything…everything was on the verge of being lost. "No! You will not take it! Not while I still live!" Branka screeched.

Of all the no good… "Branka! Don't throw your life away for this! Leave this accursed place and come home with me."

"I'm sorry, Oghren. I don't know the woman she was… but I will not be a part of her madness. The insanity ends here. But this is not my choice alone." She looked at her friends. "I do not wish to fight any of you. I don't. It would break my heart. But I would rather die doing what I know is right than live with the weight of horror that this anvil can unleash." She blinked as the others moved in to stand at her side. "I'm sorry, Oghren. If she does not give in…there is only one way forward."

Fine. So be it. "Bah! You are not the only master smith here, Caridin!" She held up a rod and activated it. "Golems! Obey me! Attack!"

No! He'd freed them and she'd taken that away from them! "A control rod! Syn….I need your help! I cannot stop her alone! I cannot move! But I will regain control of as many golems as I can. " Caridin cried out in frustration. He did not know how her control rod could have affected him, but he could override the control rod's power to at least help give his saviors a fighting chance.

This was worse than she'd feared. Morrigan was their weapon fighting the golems and there were far too many…a harsh breath slipped from her when golem began fighting golem. Thank you, Caridin. She pulled her bow and went after Branka. The golems were not bright enough to take out the mage when there were other things they could smash…but Branka was. The woman was, however, very quick with her shield. Branka, apparently, got tired of having to fend off arrows and charged her. She hooked her bow on her back and withdrew her daggers. This fight was hers. The others were focused on the golems. They could not risk losing the golems fighting with them, so had to keep Branka's distracted.

She ran towards the charging woman and launched herself over the top of Branka's head, spun as she came back down, slashing out with her dagger. She heard Branka's hiss as the dagger slid between the plates of her armor to bite into her flesh. She slowly backed away, leading Branka further away from the rest of the group.

It became a game of cat and mouse. She had to stay just out of reach of the woman's shield while she parried the swing of her sword and tried to land a blow of her own. She could feel the heat and knew she was getting close to the edge of the cliff. Nothing but a river of lava awaited whomever made the wrong move. She saw the shield coming at her, pretended to try to dodge it and let it glance off her side. She was spun to the ground, her side throbbing, mere inches from a fiery death.

"I thought you'd be better," Branka snarled. "But you're a weak little princess – nothing more than a pretty face and an empty head."

She rose, slid her daggers into their sheaths with a grin. Right now, they would only hamper her. "A queen has many moves, Branka…and often you never see her coming." When the sword arched towards her, she allowed her steel banded cuff to take the brunt of the impact, grabbed her forearm, spun around and launched the woman over her back. Thank you, Lor. She hung on as Branka was flung over the edge of the cliff, the shield and sword falling to the molten lava below. She fell hard onto her breasts with a cry of pain, but refused to let Branka fall to her death. "Never underestimate the queen. Do you yield, Branka?"

Branka grimaced. She could feel the uncomfortable heat inside her armor. "You will destroy us all! We are nothing without the Anvil!"

"We are free!" She slid further towards the edge, the toes of her boots scrabbling to find a foothold to dig into. "You've sacrificed everything you were…everything you had to destroy everything that we are as a people. You have become as twisted as the Deep Roads. Let it go, Branka – before it's too late."

The smile on her face was cold as she looked up into the princess' face. She reached up with her free hand and grasped the other dwarf's forearm to pull herself upwards. Her smile grew colder when princess slid forward. "It's already too late, princess. I will never have the Anvil, our people will never be saved…and you will never sit on the throne."

Where was she? His eyes scanned the chamber, but he didn't see her. He heard her cry out and his blood turned to ice as he saw her sliding over the ledge. He dropped his sword and dagger and ran, his heart hammering painfully in his chest. Not like this. Not like this. When he was close enough he launched himself at her and grabbed onto the back of her armor. He swung around; his ass slid on the stone until he dug his heals in and gained purchase. The muscles in his thighs bunched and screamed with the effort to keep them both from going over the edge. What was weighing her down? He inched forward and peered down, Branka was face to face with Syn and he'd heard the words spoken from a sneering mouth. He reached out and sank his fingers into a small crack in the stone in case his gamble did not pay off. He felt multiple hands grip onto him as his foot shot out, slamming into the dwarf's face with a satisfying crunch. He watched as Branka pin-wheeled out, her arms all but flapping like a bird, her scream echoing up to them even after she disappeared from sight.

Helping hands pulled him back from the edge, even as he pulled Syn into his arms. His legs were still shaking from the strain they'd been under, but it didn't matter. She was safe. He smothered her face in kisses. "There is a time for mercy and a time to kill and you got that one backwards, my dear."

Her arms encircled his neck and she held on tight. "I wanted to save her for Oghren, not for mercy. I had hoped, when faced with death, she would finally see what she'd become and what she'd lost. But there was nothing sane left in her. Nothing I could reach…"

He'd nearly lost her. The pain of that was unbearable. And it was a pain he could not shake. He would rather be tortured by the Crows than go through that again. He kissed her forehead. "Don't ever do that again."

Did that mean he cared for her or that he was just trying to fulfill his role as her protector? Before she could ask, they were being helped to their feet by the others. And then she found herself in a chain of hugs, some longer than other, but even Morrigan surprised her with a brief hug and a reprimand for showing too much compassion to a woman that deserved nothing. A moment later she was facing Oghren. "I'm sorry, Oghren. I tried to get her to see reason. I tried to save her for you, but she didn't want saved."

He was numb from the shock of his wife's death. A part of him still loved her. Still hoped he would be able to bring her home. But the woman he'd met in the Deep Roads had not been his Branka. She'd killed his wife and her own House. "Damn fool woman was always stubborn – but that wasn't my sodding wife. I don't know who that was and I don't much care," he grumped.

"From what I have seen, you are far better off with Felsi," Tayln reminded him.

"Damn straight I am!" Oghren said with a nod.

"Another life lost because of my invention. You were nearly lost to us as well, Syn Aeducan. I wish no mention of it had made it into history. All of this…this is my doing, my legacy. But at least it ends here. I thank you all for standing with me. The Anvil waits for you to shatter it. You mentioned you had need of a paragon. What final favor could I grant you before I am freed from my burden?"

And that was the question. She had thought she'd be bringing a paragon to the Assembly, but it did not look like that was going to happen. "Normally, I would not ask for a favor, but the Assembly is dead-locked and I have to settle the throne dispute to get their aid for the blight."

"For the aid you have given me, I shall put hammer to steel one last time, and give you a crown for the ruler of your choice." He trudged up the stairway to the Anvil one final time.

They watched as he worked at the Anvil. Zevran picked up his weapons, sheathed them and then joined her once more. The clang of the hammer was beating out a tempo she found soothing in some odd way until he laid his hammer down to hold up a beautiful, golden crown. When he motioned her up to him, she hurried up the tall stairway.

He handed her the crown. "It is done. Give it whom you will. I do not wish to hear their names, nor anything more of them. I have already lived beyond my time. I have no place here. But I would suggest you wear it. I made it for you. You are a strong and compassionate woman. The crown belongs on your head." He stepped aside so that she could gain access to the Anvil.

She tied the crown to her belt with a leather thong. "I will consider your words. And now, I will keep mine." She passed him and walked the rest of the way up to the Anvil. She picked up his hammer and stepped up onto the dais. She wasn't sure how her striking the Anvil would destroy it, perhaps some of the runes engraved into it allowed only Caridin to use the Anvil. She took a deep breath and heaved the hammer down against the shiny surface and a massive wave of power exploded from the Anvil, debris rained down upon their heads. When the dust settled, she could see the shattered remains of Caridin's legacy.

Caridin looked down at the ruin that had caused so much destruction and then turned away from it. He walked down the stairs and to the edge of the cliff. He looked down into the river of lava and then to the woman that had joined him. "You have my eternal thanks, Syn Aeducan. Atrast nal tunsha…may you always find your way in the dark." If he could have smiled, he would have. He looked back down to the molten river, held his arms out to his side and leaned forward.

She rushed to the edge and peered down. She felt a strong arm come around her, but she did not look away until the golem's massive body disappeared in a fiery splash. And just like that, he was gone. She closed her eyes for a moment, but allowed Zevran to pull her away from the edge.

She scanned the room one final time and noticed a large statue of a golem holding a large, stone tablet. She could see writing on it as she approached it. Etched runes framed rows of names. She ran a finger over one of the names, Shayle of Cadash. The weight of what she was seeing bore down on her heart. These weren't just names – they were records. "I think these are the names of all the dwarves that the Anvil forged into golems," she said quietly. "A lot of people died on that Anvil." She read the ancient dwarven dialect, running her finger along the words as she read them: "We honor those who have made this sacrifice, let their names be remembered." If they were ever remembered, they were forgotten long ago. "Oghren? Are there any empty pages left in Branka's journal? If there are, I should get a rubbing of these names. They deserve to be remembered in the Memories."

He untied the leather strip that held the journal to the belt of his armor. He tore off a few pages in the back and handed them to her. "Well, fart me a lullaby! You are right, it's a memorial! Has to be!"

She tried to smile, but it probably looked more like a grimace. "Thank you." She scanned the ground for a suitable stone, when Garrett placed one in her palm. She nodded to him and placed the paper against the tablet to get the tracings. After she finished she dropped the stone with a steady exhale. "We should get back."

Oghren rubbed his chin with the back of his gauntlet. "Well, that pretty much beat the sod out of how I imagined it. I'm sick of this place. Let's go, we've got news to share."

Their journey back was far less eventful, spiders ran from their approach and, for the moment, no darkspawn challenged them. Tayln said he could feel their presence, but they stayed out of sight and that was more than fine by her. There were still things she needed to do. She needed to give the sealed scroll she found in Ortan Thaig to Orta, she needed to turn the etchings into the shaperate, she needed to tell Ruck's mother that he'd died, she needed to get a nug and supplies for Ruck, and she needed to talk to Pyral about a few things. But all she really wanted to do was sleep until she was old and grey.

After they finally reached the Diamond Quarter she stopped by Pyral's, but was told by one of the guards that he was already at the Assembly. Well, fuck. She hurried to the Assembly and pushed through the doors.

Bandelor raised his hands. "Lords of the Assembly, I call for order! This argument gets us nowhere!"

Behlen shook his head. "Then why these delaying tactics? I call for a vote right now. My father has one living child to assume the Aeducan throne. Who would deny him?"

"I would!" her voice rang out across the assembly. "You made sure my father only had one living child left. Congratulations, brother - to sacrifice your family and come so close to a throne that was never meant to be yours only to have that dream blow up in your face! How does it feel now that the tables have been turned? The truth of your regicide will come out – you will _never_ rule Orzammar!"

She hadn't known she was going to utter those words. She was going to push for Harrowmont to be king and work through him until she had the throne as had always been intended. But seeing her brother after hearing Caridin's words, and the words just slipped out.

No! She was dead! He'd made sure of it! He knew Harrowmont had found some stooges to support him, but none of the men he'd sent out to kill them had returned. She couldn't go traipsing through Orzammar and not be seen. Why had no one told him? She was too late – she couldn't touch him now. She'd been stricken from the Memories. "Get that casteless trash out of the Assembly!"

"Here! Here! There will be order in this Assembly or it will be dismissed!" Bandelor warned.

Bhelen was grabbed by his men as he lunged forward. "Get her out of here!"

Syn smiled at her younger brother. "Afraid your house of cards is going to crumble, brother? You should be. You messed with the wrong Aeducan when you betrayed me. And I am done taking the blame for your crime!"

Frandlin Ivo stepped burst through the Assembly doors with guards at his heels, one of which was his brother. He did not even look at Bhelen. "Forgive our intrusion, deshyrs."

Bhelen's eyes grew round. No! He'd had the scout killed, but not Frandlin – Frandlin was one of his most trusted men. He could think of only one reason he'd be here – but why? Why would he betray him now? "This is a joke! Is the Assembly open for all now? Get them out of here or I will!"

Syn's eyes narrowed when she saw two of the men that had entered the Assembly. Frandlin…one of her accusers. One of the two men that had lied about her killing Trian. But the other one…it was one of Bhelen's men that she'd let live after he attacked her. Were they coming to bear more false testimony? Even if she couldn't be queen, she'd make sure Pyral took the throne. Unless, they were going to give false testimony against Pyral, then nothing would stop that from happening.

Frandlin cleared his throat. "Deshyrs of the Assembly! It was Bhelen that ordered Prince Trian's death and Princess Syn's framing. I was-"

"Kill them!" Bhelen bellowed. "Kill those that would besmirk my name! I am the king of Orzammar!"

Pandemonium broke out in the Assembly as everyone took up arms. "Protect the guards - do not let my brother silence them!" Syn cried out as she whipped out her bow and deployed an arrow into the eye of one of their attackers. She slapped the bow to her back and drew her daggers when her brother charged her. "You and me, little brother. Let's dance."

Thana knew her sister was in mortal danger. Bhelen would never let her live. He'd stop at anything to kill her and the guards that spoke out against him. She untied her cowled cape and threw it to the ground. "Are you sure you have the right sister, little brother?" she taunted. "I've been waiting a long time to make you pay for what you did to our family!"

The shouting across the Assembly floor was deafening. He froze when he saw the two women, mirrors of each other. "What trickery is this?! Kill them both!" he growled.

Bandelor peered out from behind the two guards that had stepped in front of him. "Prince Bhelen, you are ordered to stand down or you will be banned from these proceedings!"

"Don't kill my brother!" Syn warned. "He does not deserve a quick death!" She dodged his charge and shot a foot out to connect with the side of his knee and he went down. She waited, daggers poised for him to get back up. "You were never the fighter I was, Bhelen. I was better at everything than you were and you couldn't stand it. Except acting. You were better at that, weren't you? Playing the innocent, naive little brother while you plotted murder behind everyone's backs."

"Did you poison our father too? Just a little each day…and watch him waste away while you pretended remorse?" Thana spat out. "But father knew the truth – that was why he had to die, wasn't it? He told Pyral the truth and he made him promise you would never get the throne. And you won't!"

Bhelen rose to his feet, keeping most of his weight on his left leg. His eyes moved from sister to sister. Impotent rage burned through him. His right leg was barely holding him up, the pain was blinding, but the hatred burned brighter. "Neither of you will ever have the throne! It is mine!"

Syn laughed. "Now you are as blind as Trian. Father claimed me as his successor. If Pyral becomes king, I will be his successor as well, as soon as my name is restored." When she saw Garrett coming up behind Bhelen, she moved slowly towards the right, her sister following her to the right, to keep her brother's attention focused on them. "I even have Paragon Caridin's support. You never stood a chance, little brother. You have been weighed, you have been measured and you have been found wanting. In what world could you ever have beaten me?" She shook her head derisively. "Your men – those that don't lie dead around you, have surrendered. You stand alone." She nodded to Garrett and watched as his pommel slammed into the side of Bhelen's head. "And you fall alone," she said quietly as his body slummed to the stone.

Bandelor stepped from between his two guards. "It is over! Find your places, deshyrs or you will be banned from the Assembly Hall!"

-BREAK TEN-

It quieted down far faster than she expected, but likely the deshyrs didn't want to miss anything that was about to happen. Now was not the time to be removed. Not when so much was in play.

Frandlin wiped his sword on the body of one of Bhelen's fallen, slid it into its scabbard and approached Steward of the Assembly once more. "I would like to bear witness against Bhelen Aeducan. We all would," he said as he motioned to the others he'd come in with. "What we have done cannot be forgiven. Two of us were a part of Bhelen's troops that were sent to kill Trian. I and Dralik, who has since been murdered by Bhelen to assure his silence, were sent to ensure the Princess found Trian's body and we were told to lie about what happened. We did so willingly, because we believed he would be the king Orzammar needed. I stopped believing that the day he had Dralik killed. But it wasn't until Princess Syn Aeducan spared my brother's life, after he attacked her and the Grey Warden in Bhelen's name, that I knew who the rightful ruler of Orzammar needed to be. We rounded up others who were willing to testify against Bhelen, even if it cost them their lives." He motioned to one of his men that lay on the floor. "As it did cost Thomlen his life. Thomlen had been responsible for acquiring the poison given to King Endrin. He'd been forced into hiding when Bhelen sent men to silence him. We are all willing to pay for the crimes we committed against the Aeducan family."

Bandelor was stunned by everything he'd learned. He had never been able to see Syn the type to murder her brother, but the evidence had been damning and there was nothing he could do about it. "You are all sentenced to death for treason against the crown. Guards- take them away and remove the prince's armor weapons, shackle him and imprison him separately. His fate will be decided shortly."

Pyral came forward and patted Syn's back. "Steward, I hereby formally resign my bid for the throne. Orzammar will have the queen Endrin wanted. The queen I wanted."

Bandelor held up his hand to silence the din Harrowmont's announcement had created. "I will not accept your resignation yet. A vote must be made to restore Syn Aeducan's name and deeds to the Memories. Deshyrs – a show of hands to restore Syn's status." Most of the deshyrs hands rose, though a few did not. "A show of hands for denial." No hands rose. "Then it is decided. Syn Aeducan your name is hereby restored to you, princess, and your deeds will be restored to the Memories. We now have three matters left to discuss. Who is the woman next to you?"

Syn grinned. "She is my twin sister, Thana Aeducan. She was secreted away on the day of our birth for her safety. If anything happened, my mother and father wanted to ensure there would be a living Aeducan heir. My sister has no desire for the throne, but I would like her added to the Memories. She is an Aeducan and if I am crowned queen, until I bear children, she is my successor."

Bandelor again had to silence the deshyrs and all but six agreed that Thana Aeducan should be added to the memories. "Thana Aeducan, born of Endrin, bearing the title of princess – your name will be added to the Memories. We must now discuss the matter of the throne. Do you still wish to withdraw your claim to the throne Pyral Harrowmont?"

Pyral inclined his head. "I do."

The steward returned his gaze to Syn. "You claimed you had a Paragon's support?"

Syn untied the golden crown from her belt and handed it to the steward. "Caridin made this crown for the next ruler of Orzammar. He said I could give it to whomever I wanted, but that he'd made the crown for me to wear."

Oghren stepped forward. "Caridin was trapped in the body of a golem. Syn Aeducan granted him the mercy he sought. Before he died, Caridin forged a crown for Orzammar's next ruler. He wanted that ruler to be the princess. She was chosen by the ancestors themselves!"

Bandelor studied the exquisite crown. The detail was stunning. The glyphs and stamp proving it was indeed forged by Paragon. "This crown is of Paragon make and bears House Ortan's ancient seal." He looked at Syn and nodded. "If you would step forward, princess."

She inclined her head and moved slowly towards the steward. As she came forward, the highest ranked deshyrs moved in to surround them. She stopped before him and knelt down on one knee. The deshyrs beat the stone floor with their staves. She could feel the vibrations of the tempo just as she felt the weight of the crown as it settled over her head. She rose slowly to a stand.

"Let the Memories find you worthy, first amidst the lords of the Houses, the queen of Orzammar." He bowed to his new queen. "My queen, since Bhelen's crimes were against you and your family, how would you like him sentenced?"

This was a long time in coming. "I would see his name stricken from the Memories. I would see him branded as a traitor and sent into the Deep Roads to suffer the same fate I was granted. If he survives, he will be permanently banned from Orzammar and will forever be seen as the traitor he is."

Once more the deshyrs pounded there staves on the stone in agreement. Bandelor inclined his head. "So it shall be done."

Now for the tricky part. "I would also like the men who came forward with the truth to be exonerated. Their crimes were against my family – against me. But without their testimony, it is uncertain if any of this would have been possible and a regicide would have gotten away with murder and maybe the throne as well. They knew their testimony would mean their deaths, but they did so anyway. In the end, they had courage and honor. I would have them as my personal guards." If that failed, she would see that they were given to the Legion of the Dead. At least they would have the chance to live longer lives and earn the respect of their fellow Legionnaires. They could die with pride, rather than shame.

The votes were more split this time, but in the end the vote was in her favor. "Thank you all for granting me this boon. We now have the matter of the blight. We signed a treaty with the Grey Wardens to be there in a time of blight and that time is upon us. We need an army to take to the surface, but we also need an army to remain here and fight the darkspawn. We do not have enough men to do that."

She gaze swept over the deshyrs. "I hereby request a new Hunter caste to be established for any casteless who wishes to join and fight our oldest enemies. The darkspawn." She held up her hand. "For too long we have ignored a valuable and desperately needed resource. Our own people. People who have been forced to resort to crime just to keep their children from starving. Imagine the drop in crime if they no longer had to fight for each breadcrumb. Imagine having the manpower to reclaim our lost thaigs – to finally reach out to our lost brethren in distant thaigs. Imagine becoming the proud people we once were – ruling all of the underland. That is within our grasp if we utilize a resource we have squandered for too long. We need to unite as a people if we are to survive. If we let ourselves get mired in old prejudices then we will eventually cease to exist as a people at all and Orzammar, too, will fall to the darkspawn. We will become nothing more than a myth and all of our wondrous works will crumble like so many other thaigs. Is that what you want to have happen? Because that is the path we are forging for our future. And that is a future none of us wants. We want to walk the Deep Roads without fear. We want to claim our long lost treasures and unite with our distant brethren. We want to reclaim our past glory!" She straightened her shoulders and stood tall. "Who will stand at my side and make that dream a reality?"

The silence was deafening. Then a single staff pounded the stone. She looked over to discover Pyral was the first to agree. That surprised her, he was very conservative. Perhaps he was doing it for her alone or perhaps she'd made him look at things another way. Another staff beat the ground. Slowly more staves danced out a tempo until the Assembly hall reverberated with the sound of thunder.

Garrett was numb with shock. Shock that she would introduce a new caste for his people and stunned that the motion had been accepted by the Assembly. He could not imagine loving anyone more than he loved her right now. What she'd done was momentous and it would change a lot of lives for the better. He wiped the tears from his eyes and started clapping. Soon, everyone without a staff clapped with him.

She smiled at the large victory she'd won. She knew she had a long, uphill battle for all the reforms she wanted to make, but this was one hell of a start and even she was surprised it had succeeded.

Bandelor held up his hands. "Deshyrs…deshyrs please, we need to conclude this meeting." When the hall fell silent, he had to bite back a grin. The queen was going to be someone worth reckoning with. He knew some of the nobles would fight it, but once they saw the benefits once they heard what could be accomplished, he had little doubt they'd come to accept the new caste. "The new Hunter caste will be recorded in the Memories. I will send some warriors down to gather the first of the volunteers. They will need training, but they have as much right to die against the darkspawn as the rest of us."

That wasn't exactly what she meant, but it would do for now. Next, she would fight for a Merchant caste, able to come and go from the surface without dishonor to build their trade network and fill Orzammar's coffers. But that was a fight for another day. Some day…when there were no casteless dwarves, she would fight to abolish caste all together. For now, however, baby steps. "I will return to the surface shortly. I will head our fight against the blight. The queen of Orzammar will fight side by side with the king of Ferelden to end the blight. My sister, as my successor, will remain here and govern in my stead while I lead our army against an age old battle. Bhelen's mistress, Rica, her mother and her son, Endrin, will remain at the palace. The child is my nephew and I will ensure he grows up to be a proper Aeducan. Now, if you will excuse me there are some things I still need to do before I leave for the surface. I thank each of you for your support. The future is ours to take. Pyral – please meet me at the palace."

Garrett released a harsh breath. He had been wrong. He could love her more. What she'd done for his family was far more than any other new ruler would have done. It didn't matter why she'd done it. As far as he was concerned, he was beholden to her for the rest of his life for taking his family in.

She hurried from the Assembly before she could be inundated with people seeking favors or favorship. She would deal with that mountain later. She came to a sudden stop, surprised to see the leader of the Legion of the Dead standing on the steps in front of the Assembly.

"My queen, you have accomplished much in your very short term of power. What you have accomplished is impressive, but the Legion is grateful most for restored leadership. It frees us to fight the darkspawn properly."

She inclined her head to him. "You will join with me and fight the blight at my side?"

He grinned. She was a wily queen. "You'll have us. It's time the surfacers saw the good the Stone can unleash. Back to Orzammar when we win, though. I'll not stay topside to lose my stone sense."

"Then I will see you topside," she said with a wink as she turned to head for the shaperate. Orta was still looking through old tomes. She must spend a lot of time here in her endless search for proof of her lineage.

Orta blinked when she saw the woman in the crown approach her. "You…you are queen? That was the new queen standing before her? The queen? "Oh, my queen," she said with a bow. "I was - I started to worry. I didn't know if you were ever coming back. Did you find any records? Any sign of the old Ortan Thaig?

Syn grinned. "I did find the thaig." She tugged the scroll out of the small satchel that was tied at her hip. "I found this scroll. Its seal is that of Ortan Thaig, but I do not know what it is. I hope that it gives you what you are looking for." She handed it to Orta.

Orta held her breath as she broke the seal to see what was within. She sucked in a harsh breath and grinned. "That's my great-grandmother's name! And her husband! Oh, great ancestors! It's them! It's me! I am an Ortan! Oh, thank you – thank you, my queen!" She hugged Syn before she even thought about it. Heat burned in her cheeks as she pulled back. "I'm so sorry-"

Syn laughed. "A hug is nothing to be sorry for. I'm glad that scroll was what you needed. Head to the Assembly, no doubt most everyone is still there. Best of luck to you Orta," she said raising her voice a bit to be heard by the fleeing woman.

She approached Czibor with a grin. "I imagine I have kept you quite busy."

Czibor bowed. "You have, my queen. Impressive work. I will not lie, the Hunter Caste does worry me, but it was met with resounding success. I did not expect to see such in my lifetime. Your coronation has been entered into the Memories. About anything I might have said before..."

She raised a hand in negation. "Consider it forgotten. But do try to have a bit more faith in me next time, yes?"

"Of course, my queen. Is there something more I can help you with?" Czibor inquired.

She nodded. "As a matter of fact, yes. I made some tracings of names on a stone plaque of all the dwarves that were put on the Anvil to become golems. I wanted them recorded in the Memories." She handed the pages to the shaper.

He looked down at the names and Houses in stunned disbelief. "Most of these clans no longer even exist! Is this authentic?"

She quirked a brow. "Did I not just say something about having a bit more faith in me?" she teased.

"You bet your hairy arse it is!" Oghren put forth. "Taken from a tablet in Caridin's fortress, no less!"

"The queen is an honorable woman – do not doubt what she says again," Garrett warned.

"Of course not. I apologize, my queen. I was just in shock at the discovery. So it is true? The rumors of Caridin's so-called volunteers? Extraordinary! I would love to make a copy of this. The Shaperate has never had much information on Caridin and his golems, much less proof of this magnitude! I must inform the Shaperate at once!"

Her lips tugged into a warm smile when she saw the old man running like fire licked at his heels towards the back of the Shaperate. "He's far more spritely than I'd have given him credit for."

"Syn, the miracle worker. She wields the power to put wings on men's hearts and their feet." Despite the teasing tone, Garrett meant every word.

Her cheeks warmed. "Oh hush. I need to go see Pyral and then gather a few things for Ruck. I want to be out of the Deep Roads before Bhelen is dumped there. I have no desire to ever see him again."

Pyral was already waiting for her when she entered the palace. Her home again…after so long. She gave him an uncertain look. "Are you truly okay with all of this, Pyral?"

His lips curled into a grin and gave her a comforting hug. "I am relieved, Syn. More relieved than I can tell you. I never wanted the burden of ruling. The crown is atop the right head."

"I wanted to thank you for supporting my decision to create a new caste. That probably wasn't easy for you, but I wanted you to know I appreciated your support," she told him.

"It caught me by surprise. I never would have done anything like that myself, but your words were powerful and they gave me one thing I'd never had before. Hope. Hope that Orzammar - that all of us would regain what was lost so very long ago. I think we need that hope right now. I think that is why your words swayed so many. Endrin knew what he was doing when he named you his successor. I have little doubt that you will put Orzammar on its ear, but I also know we'll be better off for it. You will always have my support as I supported your father."

She smiled warmly at him and hugged him again. "That means a lot to me. You are the only father I have left Pyral."

He felt the heat burn behind his eyes and closed them. "Stop now, before you make an old man cry."

She laughed and pulled away. "Were you able to find someone willing to marry Zerlinda and become a father?" she asked hopefully.

He stroked the braids on his chin. "I was, indeed. It would seem my nephew, Renvil, was amenable after all. Rather eager, I might add, he was busy building a bassinet before I left for the assembly. Bring them by my estate when you can. It will be nice having a babe in the house again."

She nodded and bit her lip. "I must …uh…consider my future husband as well. I won't know anything for sure just yet. I have to survive the blight first. But I think it will end up being one of two men. Tanok Helmi or… Nevin Harrowmont."

That surprised him more than he could say. Neither Tanok or his son had ever been seen with a woman on their arms. Perhaps she preferred her men without experience. They were both men of exemplary character and either one would make a suitable prince consort. "They are both good men, though I am biased towards my son," he said with a wink. "You marry who you are comfortable with, that won't change how I feel about you."

"I know," she said quietly. "For now, I'd like you to be Thana's second while I'm topside."

He grinned at her. "That gives me more time to get to know my new girl better."

Thana pursed her lips. She did want to get to know Orzammar and its people better. She would be able to research more about her family. But she didn't like remaining while her sister went to battle. "You know, sis…we've never actually discussed me staying down here while you go fight in a war. I wanted to remain at your side."

She looked over at her sister. "I know, hon. And I'm sorry I didn't have time to discuss it with you before I dropped it in your lap. I have to finish what I've started – and I can't do that from down here. Our people need someone to rally them and keep their confidence up until the blight has been defeated. I can't be in two places at once. I need you right now, Thana. Orzammar and its people need you. Please say you'll help me."

A heavy breath slipped from her lips. And there it was. Something she could not say no to. "Fine. But afterwards, you are taking me topside and we are going to spend some time together."

That was something she could work with. "I'll marry when I get back and I can leave my husband to keep the throne warm for me. I can't be gone too long, but we'll get some adventuring in before I come back. Deal?"

Thana nodded. "Deal."

Garrett unhooked the shield and held the shield and sword out to Harrowmont. "Thank you for allowing me to borrow them. I've not had time to properly clean them yet – for that I apologize, but they served me well."

Pryal waved his hands. "They were getting no use sitting in a chest. Keep them. I'm far too old to fight the blight, but perhaps in giving them to you, I will have played a small role in the battle."

Garret inclined his head. "Thank you for your generosity, my lord." He hooked the shield back onto his back and slid the sword into its scabbard. "I will use them with honor against the blight."

She returned her attention to Pyral. "Thank you for stopping by. We will be seeing a lot of each other in the future. It is good to be back home. Even so, I intend to find excuses to go topside when I can," she teased.

He nodded. "You always were one for seeking out adventures. If I don't see you again before you leave – may the Stone guide you safely."

She hugged Pyral and then hugged her sister, before taking the crown off her head to hand it Thana. "I will be back when the archdemon is dead. Pyral will be at your side, he's a good man and can help you through anything that comes along. You'll be fine. I know you will. I'm also sure he'll be eager to fill your ears with juicy stories of my childhood."

Zevran chuckled when he heard that. "Juicy stories, hmmm? Perhaps I should stay as well, my dear. My ears are eager to be filled, you can imagine."

"Great!" Garrett told him. "I'm sure Thana will appreciate the company. You three take care; we will see you when we return."

Zevran's eyes narrowed. No doubt Garrett did want him out of the way. His lips grew into a cold smile. "Some people just cannot take a joke. An honorable man cannot walk away from an oath, is that not true?"

" _You_ are no honorable man," Garrett pointed out.

Zevran held his hand to his heart. "Slander and lies. For shame, Garrett. You are cruel to hurt me so."

She just turned and walked out of the palace with a grin on her face. She would go see Zerlinda first and then try to hunt down Filda for Ruck. And now they were down to six. But, hopefully, they would not run into much trouble. Her grin widened when she saw Bhelen's men had been released from prison.

Frandlin bowed low. "My queen, I did not expect you to feel such mercy towards us. We are ever in your debt."

Her gaze met each man's. "You were willing to give your lives to right a wrong - that was courageous and honorable. And you are hereby promoted to my honor guard. Frandlin, you and your brother will accompany us. I will have something I need you to do for me. The rest of you go to the Harrowmont estate, my sister is likely still there. You will see to her protection while I'm away."

When the four men hurried off she turned to look at the other two. "I promised Dagna, from the Smith Caste, I would look into something for her at the Circle. I will need you two to take the news back to her, once we have her answer. Then you may join the others to keep peace until I return.

"Of course, my queen. You may call on Crandle or I any time you have need. We will not fail you," Frandlin told her matter of fact. "Never again."

Those words were very similar to the oath he'd given her and brought back nostalgic memories. "You have a way of making others regret crossing you, my dear." He found that terribly sexy.

Morrigan rolled her eyes. "Yes, it appears we are to collect men as if they were lost puppies. Were we to collect every man that tried to kill you we will have an army in little time, it would seem."

"So it would seem," Tayln agreed.

-BREAK ELEVEN-

Dust Town was teeming with far more life than she was used to seeing. Several warriors were here rounding up those willing to join the Hunter Caste. A great many people had turned out to present themselves to the Warriors. Once she told them where she was going, her guards helped open a path through the throng of men and women.

Zerlinda jumped up when she saw Syn coming towards her. She gently rocked her son in her arms. "Did you see what was going on? We have a new queen – and she did…she did this for us! For them! Can you believe it? I would have never believed it could happen! Maybe – with a woman on the throne, there is a chance for a better tomorrow. Do uhh…you have any news…anything?"

Seeing these people with hope on their faces had been worth everything she'd gone through to become queen. Her smile grew. "I do," she said with a nod. "Go to Harrowmont's estate, in the Diamond Quarter. His nephew, Renvil, is willing to marry you and claim your son. Renvil's a good man, I grew up with him. He'll treat you right."

Tears of joy slipped down her cheeks. "I – I don't know what to say. Thank you…thank you. We owe you everything."

She shook her head. "You owe me nothing, Zerlinda. Now, take your son to meet his father. Crandle – please escort her to Pyral's, then meet us at the entrance to the Deep Roads." She couldn't help but notice that when the woman left with Crandle, she took nothing but the babe in her arms. It was unfortunate to think that she had nothing to claim as her own but for her child. But the important thing was that they were both headed to a better life.

The nug! She had remembered seeing someone with pet nugs. Sticking close to the edge of the dilapidated buildings she located the man and he allowed her to pick the one she wanted. She chose the one that up to her and rubbed against her for attention. She thanked the man and paid him fifty silvers for the young nuggling.

With that done, she was ushered back through the boisterous crowd and out of Dust Town. Back in the Commons she asked around until someone pointed out where Ruck's mother could be found. She was praying at a statue. She recalled seeing the woman praying thusly a couple of days ago. She did not relish what she was about to do. But maybe the woman would find some peace and be able to move on.

"Filda?" she asked softly as she approached her.

Filda rose from the ground and turned to face whomever had spoken to her. "How do you know me?"

She bit her lip. "I don't…exactly. I was just in the Deep Roads."

Filda's brows rose. "The – the Deep Roads. My son…Ruck – he was lost in the Deep Roads a few years back." She swallowed. "Did you - did you see any sign of him?"

She hated lying, but the truth would likely cost the woman her life. No doubt, if she knew he was alive, she'd try to find him. Any mother would. "I did – that's why I was trying to find you. I'm sorry, Filda. Your son did not survive the Deep Roads."

Her eyes closed and she dropped her head. "Oh, my poor boy. I – I guess I knew." Her head slowly rose to look at the messenger. "But…I just wish I could have seen him one last time."

She scratched the top of the nuggling's head and nodded. "I can understand that. Just know that he lives on through you – you carry him with you wherever you go. Find solace in that." She knew the words were far easier to speak than to live by. Her mother had wasted away for the loss of Thana. She could not begin to imagine that kind of pain.

"Thank you for your kind words. And thank you for risking your life to bring me this news. May the Stone ever guide your steps."

She inclined her head to the woman and hoped she would find peace. Vendors. Now she needed to find a pillow, a blanket and some stew. That was proving a little harder to do. She eventually found a vendor from top side that had camping supplies. But the stew….Fildore's!

She hurried up to the Diamond Quarter and into Fildore's Eats. She was able to get a large bowl of stew to go. She'd had to pay extra for the small kettle and lid, but Ruck would probably get a lot of use out of it. Frandlin volunteered to carry the stew, Garrett carried the bedding and she carried the nuggling. With a final nod she hurried back down to the entry of the Deep Roads. If the guards wondered why the queen was carrying such things down into the darkspawn filled ruins, they didn't say. But they did meet back up with Crandle and together they entered into the corridor that lead down into the belly of Orzammar.

There were a few spiders and a handful of darkspawn that tested them on the way to Ortan Thaig, but they were no match for such a large group. She took the passage that led to Ruck's camp. "I've brought you some things," she said as she stepped into the chamber.

Ruck closed his chest and rose on wobbly legs with a smile. "Pretty Syn…Ruck's been thinking about you. You fill Ruck's thoughts with sun and sky and heat. Ruck missed your soft words and your scent."

Sometimes it was hard to remember that Ruck was a man. She thought of him as a child, but that did not mean he lacked a man's thoughts. "We brought you the things you wanted most." She nodded to Garrett. "A pillow and blanket," she said as Garrett handed the bedding to Ruck.

Ruck's eyes lit up as he unrolled the soft blanket and laid it near the fire. He set the pillow down at the head of his new bedroll. "Pretty Syn remembered! Soft blanket! Soft pillow! Will pretty Syn lay with Ruck?"

Oghren grunted. "You'd have to stand in line," he grumbled.

"Oghren!" she warned with a frown before turning back to smile at Ruck. "I'm sorry, Ruck. I doubt my…lover would approve," she said gently. "But I did get you something to warm your belly."

"No, he would not," Zevran bit out with a frown.

When the pot was handed to him he lifted the lid and inhaled. "Stew! Stew for Ruck!" He set the kettle next to the fire to warm the stew. "Ruck is glad you found him. He is lucky to have you."

"I am glad I found you too, honey. I have one more thing to give you. I promised you a pet." She carefully slipped the small nuggling into Ruck's hands. Remember to feed him moss and mushrooms." She smiled when the nuggling nuzzled his chin. "Keep him safe and he will be your friend for years to come." Or how ever many years he had left.

Ruck's eyes rose to meet hers. "Ruck loves Ribble. Ruck loves Syn. Syn good to Ruck." He nodded as his body swayed. "Ruck loves."

She felt tears prick at her eyes and fought to hold them back. "I love you too, honey." She lifted the medallion over her head and slipped it over Ruck's, until it settled on his chest. "This is a medallion of protection. It bears the Royal stamp of House Aeducan. I'm giving it to you to keep you safe from the men that will be coming down here to work on clearing out the darkspawn. Remember to show them the medallion and they will leave you in peace." Rather than pieces.

She slipped her arms around him to give him something else he'd been without for a long time. A simple touch. She could feel the tremors and wavering in his body, but held him anyway. When she finally pulled back she gently wiped his cheek and kissed it. "I will visit you and Ribble when I can, Ruck. It may be awhile. There is a blight topside, but I will visit when I return."

"Ruck will think about pretty Syn. Be stone safe," he told her as he settled next to the fire and put Ribble in his lap.

"You too, my friend." She knew there was a chance he wouldn't be there when she returned or that his condition might worsen. But she'd done what she could to give him some small amount of pleasure in his life. It was too bad she'd not found Hespith again. Then neither of them would have been alone. But that was nothing she could do anything about today.

They stopped to replenish their stores of dried food and water before they departed Orzammar. At least this time she was leaving of her own free will.

"Give me a moment," Oghren grumbled.

She grinned. The looks on Oghren's and Garrett's faces were priceless. "First time topside?"

Oghren looked up into the sky. "By the stone, I feel like I'm about to fall off the world with all that sky up there."

Garrett nodded. "There is a vastness I had not anticipated. It is daunting," he admitted.

She understood that all too well. "I felt much the same way when I first left Orzammar. Now, having returned to the Stone, I feel the weight of it bearing down on me, but I also feel the comfort of an old slipper. When I am home, I miss the sun and the stars and the rain and the mountains and the fresh air – I miss it all. But when I am here too long I miss the Stone and the heat and the molten rivers and my home…my bed. Now that I have known both worlds, I do not wish to give up either."

Oghren took another step forward and stopped again, wavering where he stood. "It's kind of like being drunk, but so much cheaper." He looked over at Syn. "Let's get moving. We're losing…whatchacallit? Daylight."

There was another new experience waiting for dwarves. Horses. When they stopped at the stables to retrieve their mounts Oghren took a step back and she smiled.

He took another step back. "No. You will not get me up on one of those sodding beasts. Man was not meant to be that high off the ground."

She folded her arms under her chest. "It's a long way back and we are not walking. You can ride behind me for now until you get the hang of it, but you _will_ ride or you will be left behind."

She turned to Garrett how to get Thana's horse, Tansy, to lower and rise for him and then helped him into the saddle the first time. She helped Frandlin mount behind him. She could tell they were nervous but neither offered a complaint. Then she patted Tirsa's shoulder and gave her the _down_ command. She pulled herself into the saddle, moved forward and then held her hand out to Oghren. When he reluctantly put his hand in hers, she hauled him up behind her. She saw Zevran help Crandle up behind him.

Oghren wrapped his arms around her waist and grinned. "A man could get used to this."

"Such a man surly lacks self-preservation. This is odd, no?" Zevran warned.

She bid the horse to rise and grinned when Oghren cried out and gripped her tighter.

"This is unnatural," Oghren groused.

A few hours into the ride Syn was tired of Oghren's constant talk of bedding her and his continuously roving hands. She pulled Tirsa to a stop and gave her the down command. She slid to the ground and nodded at Zev who lowered Crandle to the ground. She motioned to the kneeling horse and Crandle mounted in front of Oghren. She handed him the reins and gave her the up command. She grinned with Oghren grabbed at Crandle's armor in desperation.

"Whadja do a thing like that for?" he asked as he glared down at her.

She took Zevran's hand and he hauled her up in front of him. "You were obviously comfortable with the ride, Oghren. And Crandle deserves to ride a horse he can mount without assistance."

They stopped off at Northton for a hearty meal and some well deserved sleep. Something was off when Zevran made love to her. She couldn't put her finger on it and he wouldn't talk to her about it, but there was something…maybe a hesitation, which he'd never had before. He was also up and dressed come morning, when before he'd spend the morning making love to her. Something was wrong. He still kissed her and smiled at her, but something was different and she didn't know why.

They camped again at the northern tip of Lake Calenhad. Sitting by the fire was relaxing. She actually found she'd missed it. There was a camaraderie around a fire seldom found elsewhere. They all talked long after Oghren passed out from drink. When Tayln and Morrigan searched out a bit of privacy, Zevran merely pulled her against him and fell asleep. Perhaps he was simply exhausted or perhaps it was something more.

They ate breakfast and set out early, arriving at the docks an hour or so before noon, according to the position of the sun. They tied their horses to a hitching post and entered the inn.

Oghren's eyes lit up. "There she is! I just wish I wasn't walking funny," he grumbled. He cleared his throat. "I'm going to go talk to her." He turned and looked at Syn. "Look, you gotta back me up here. Got it?"

"Of course, Oghren!" With luck, getting Oghren and Felsi together would solve a great many problems. "Though, perhaps I should talk to her first to make sure she's not married."

"Huh…I hadn't thought of that. Find ouot how much she misses old Oghren…or who I have to kill, then I'll go sweep her off her feet. That's me," he said with a laugh, "Mister charm."

She patted his shoulder guards and moved towards the woman in question.

Felsi turned to face the approaching dwarf. "What can I get for you? Don't say mead, we ran out of that a week ago. And doesn't say rum either. We ran out the day before yesterday. Don't say brandy," she told her.

"When did you run out of brandy?"

"Last night. Have you seen how desperate people are now? They just want to drink to forget what's happened. Some have run out of coin and started paying in food, chickens, whatever they had."

"Felsi! I need tables cleaned, girl!" the barkeep yelled.

"We have a customer!" she said, explaining the obvious.

"Is he your husband?" She didn't think he was, but wasn't sure how else to ask.

Felsi chuckled. "Husband? No – jus the boss. You haven't been in town long, have you? You'd think this whole town was a chantry cloister, for all the real men you'd find here. If you're looking for a husband, you won't find one here."

"Good to know, but I think I've got that worked out. Eight ales if you have it."

She nodded. "We still have ale – boss makes it out back. Hope you have an iron stomach," she warned as she headed over to the bar.

Syn returned to Oghren. "She's still single."

A smile spread across his lips and he laughed. "I knew it! Once you've had Oghren, what merchant boy would do?"

She pursed her lips to keep from laughing. "I'm sure that's true.

"Just be ready to pry her off when she throws herself at me. We don't want to make a scene here. Well," he chuckled, "don't pull her off me too soon – a little scene's alright."

Felsi set the tankards down at the table where the people the dwarf had come in with were sitting. She settled her tray at an empty table to pick up the empty tankards when they were finished.

She heard someone coming up behind her and turned to find out what else they needed. That was when she saw the last person she expected to see. Oghren. The man that got drunk at her father's funeral , battled the roast and lost to it.

Oghren leered at her. "Are you sure you're not a baker? Cause you've got a sodding nice pair of buns."

Syn closed her eyes and groaned. That was horrible. She got as close as she could to Oghren. The man needed some help before he buried himself.

"Well look what the nug dragged in. I should have known you were in the neighborhood by the stench," she said dryly. "What are you doing here?"

"Ahh…just trying to kick back with a pint. Fighting darkspawn is a lot of sodding work, you know?" Surely that would impress her.

Felsi cocked a brow. " _You're_ fighting darkspawn?"

"Yes, he is. He's joined us to fight the blight and he fought by the queen of Orzammar's side through the Deep Roads. Something she will not soon forget," Syn put forth. It was certainly true. She just didn't need to say _what_ she wouldn't forget.

"The queen of Orzammar? That is a change. And now you've come to fight the blight?" Felsi inquired, still having a difficult time believing what she'd heard.

"Well, someone gotta do it, you know. Can't leave a blight to the humans, they'll just muck it all up," he reminded her.

"The _whole_ surface and you just happened to come to my tavern?" she scoffed.

"Eh..well…" he wasn't sure what to say to that.

She put her hand to the side of her mouth. "Tell her it's fate," she whispered.

"What? Oh, right. It's fate, Felsi, what can I say?"

Felsi nearly laughed. "Fate? The ancestors must have a sense of humor then."

He chuckled. "Sure they do! You've had a good look at Lady Helmi, haven't you? If her face isn't a joke the ancestors are playing, I'm a bronto's behind."

"So, Lady Helmi must be a paragon of beauty then." Sarcasm dripped off every word.

Syn raised her hand to hide her mouth again. "Tell her you've been thinking of her."

He leered appreciatively at her. "I've been thinking about you, Felsi."

Yeah, but what was he thinking about her? "What do you want, Oghren?"

"Nothin. I just thought I'd see how you were doing, is all. Well, maybe that and grease up the bronto, if you know what I mean," he said with a waggle of his brows.

And that was Oghren. "Well, you've seen me. You'll have to go back to Orzammar for the bronto."

"Oghren…the queen is waiting," Syn pointed out. She really hated dwarven wooing. It was painful to see and painful to hear.

Right. "Ooh, the queen needed a new fool, did she?"

Syn, folded her arms under her breasts. "No, I actually don't have a need for any fools. But I do have a blight to fight before I head back to Orzammar."

Felsi blinked, she could feel the heat burning in her cheeks. "You're – you're the new queen?" Her gaze moved between the queen and Oghren. This was surreal. Oghren really was working with the queen of Orzammar. Would wonders never cease?

"She sure is, woman! That's Syn Aeducan – Orzammar's new queen. It's been fun, Felsi. But you heard the queen, I gotta go."

"W-wait! You're leaving? You just got here. I haven't called you a shaft-rat yet!"

"Oh, you can't keep the archdemon waiting. You hurt its feelings. It might just turn the whole blight around and go home. Nobody want's that," he reminded her.

She had been enjoying their game; it reminded her of old times – before the roast incident. "Well…you don't _need_ to fight it right now, do you? I mean, you could have a pint first. You could call me a surly bronto, I could tell you that you smell like nug droppings."

She still wanted him. "I'll tell you what – once the blight is over, I'll come back for that pint…and you. You frigid deepstalker."

So he wouldn't stay. She could only hope he'd come back. "Fine, but you'd better not keep me waiting, you worthless copper-plated sword-caste."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Syn shook her head and headed straight for the table. She downed the ale with a grimace and slapped the tankard back down on the table. "That was distasteful."

"The ale or Oghren's wooing?" Garret asked.

"Both. Drink up and come on. We still have to get to the Tower."

Outside, Oghren thanked her for having his back and she'd wished him luck with Felsi. She truly, deeply did. Now, if he would just behave. Perhaps now he would, since he had someone waiting for him to get back.

A nice man ferried her, Zev and Garrett across the lake to Kinloch Hold for a few silvers. The First Enchanter, Irving, had been intrigued by Dagna's request to join the Circle for study. He was also flattered the new queen of Orzammar had come, herself, to ask for Dagna's admittance. They were ferried back across and she released her guards to return to Orzammar and give Dagna the good news.

They were back down to six and still only had five horses. Zevran handed her into the saddle and mounted behind her to continue their journey back to the main camp. Banter was light and flirty, but it did not delve into the sexual, which was odd for Zev. But again, he would not talk about whatever was bothering him. Maybe he was getting tired of their arrangement? He still kissed her without being asked to, he still held her at night, his body still responded to her…but he shied away from that contact and that was something she couldn't understand because he wouldn't talk to her about it.

-BREAK TWELVE-

When they finally reached the main camp she was already feeling the itch of days without sex. Thankfully, all the new faces were a welcome distraction. It would appear that she was not the only one to bring others into the fold. There many hugs and a round of introductions. She paid close attention to Zevran's face when she introduced him to the rightful king and queen and the other Grey Wardens, but she saw no signs of deceit. She saw wary looks descend on other faces, Kadar's most prominently, but what soothed her most was Lor's lack of any concern. She had a way of knowing things and if she wasn't concerned about Zevran, then there was no need for concern.

After her group caught up on everything that had happened with the other groups, she told their story about everything that happened at Orzammar, to include discovering that she had a twin sister.

It was decided that they would stay another two weeks at the main camp before leaving for Redcliffe. Emalynd need more time to recover her strength and Lyrica and Jowan needed more training to control and strengthen their connection to the fade. They also wanted to give the Orzammar group time to get to know all the new-comers. A trust had to develop so that they could work together as a cohesive team for the taxing battles to come.

She had been surprised to see that the unyielding Sten seemed to have had the stick, at least mostly, pulled out of his ass. He wasn't friendly to a lot of people, but there were a few he seemed to respect and like enough to spend time with. It was also obvious that he was quite taken with Elvie and that was a shock on two fronts, considering she knew Elvie was in love with Cullen. She had also been surprised to find out Lyrica and Berchan had been wed at the dalish camp.

That first night they all stayed up talking until they passed out from exhaustion. The next morning, after breakfast, the mages moved to the far side of the camp to train and the others volunteered to help her group with cleaning and repairing their armor and weapons, which had taken a beating in the Deep Roads. It was the first time she realized how much bonding could actually occur over doing such a task. Talking and laughing, telling stories…it made chore turn into something far more relaxing and even therapeutic.

The cleaning, sharpening and repairs were finished by noonday. The mages took a break and they all sat around the fire talking about what they still needed to accomplish and discussed different ways to accomplish their goals. They wanted to make sure they honed several backup plans, because things seldom every went according to plan.

There were also several things that needed to be done in Denerim. Alistair wanted to meet another sister. Leliana wanted to confront Marjolaine. Tayln, Angelia and Neria wanted to check on their families at the alienage. And Kadar needed to get long overdue missives sent to Varric.

After a rather lengthy lunch the mages returned to training and most everyone else settled into sparring matches to hone their skills or train with Lor and Kael to learn a new style of fighting, which was well suited for dual weapon wielders. As supper time approached she, Lor and the other archers, along with the two hounds and the wolf, went out to hunt. Others in their large group would take turns cleaning and cooking whatever they brought back.

Supper was a lazy affair. Jokes, teasing and stories filled the night. Bohdan and Sandal tended to be the first to tuck in for the night. An hour later couples went off in search of private time. She looked hopefully at Zevran, but he was staring into the fire. Fine. She threw the stick she'd been drawing in the dirt with into the flames and retired to her tent only to find that Zevran's bedroll as gone. She closed her eyes. He'd not even bother to talk to her. She charged out of her tent and nearly ran into him. "What's going on with you?" she demanded. "I thought-" she shook her head. She'd thought they were growing closer. That something special was building between them. He'd even been willing to risk death to save her. "Why, Zevran?"

He opened his mouth but words, for the first time in his life, utterly failed him. He couldn't tell her. He'd fallen under her spell. He was in love with her and she wanted casual. She was the queen of Orzammar and needed a dwarven husband. He would lose her when she returned to Orzammar and he didn't know how to deal with that loss. The longer he stayed with her, the more he made love to her, the stronger that bond would be for him. It had taken him awhile to work through what he was feeling, to come to terms that he'd lost his heart to her, something he'd never anticipated happening. This was no fairy tale and there would not be any happily ever after for them, so he had to pull back. He would stay with her until she released him, he'd given her his oath, but he could not continue as they were. "I will fulfill my oath, but that is all there can be between us now."

The pang stung like the lash of a whip to her heart. Like a foolish child, she fought the urge to cry, the urge to beg him to stay with her. She swallowed hard and squared her shoulders. She would not beg. He either wanted to be with her or he didn't. "I will honor your wishes. I – I have enjoyed the time we've had together." She swallowed again trying to keep the tears at bay. "This – does not affect our friendship." She turned away before she could say anything stupid and slipped out of the glow of the fire to head towards the bank of the small river, tears sliding silently down her cheeks.

Zevran reached out to her as she walked away, but his hand fell heavily to his side. This was for the best. He turned his head away when he saw Garrett leave to follow after her. He wanted to kill the man so badly he could taste it. But he'd given up his claim on Syn. It was a hell of his own making, but he could see nothing ahead except heartbreak, no matter what happened.

Lor looked from the departing Syn to Zevran. "Give me a moment," she said to Kael as she rose from bench to have a word with the elf. "We need to talk," she said quietly.

Garrett had heard what Zevran had told her. He wasn't going after her to take advantage of what had happened, but he needed to make sure she would be okay. He passed through the trees and found her illuminated by the moonlight, sitting on the bank, her boots lying next to her as her toes slowly skimmed through the water of the rock pool. As he drew closer he could hear her quiet sobs. He lowered himself next to her and slipped his arms around her to hold her. "I'm sorry you are hurting. It tears at my heart to see you in pain. I would ease your suffering if I knew how." He didn't even know how to ease his own hurting heart.

She leaned into his embrace, needing the feel of comforting arms around her. "Only time can heal this pain." She wiped her eyes and looked up into his emerald green gaze. "Do you want me?" she asked softly.

He swallowed hard when his heart turned over in his chest. "You are the only woman I've ever wanted."

She knew it was selfish…wrong to find solace in the arms of a man that loved her when her heart belonged to another. But Zevran hadn't bedded her in some time and her body was aching with need. Still…"I don't want to hurt you. I care about you too much to use you." She moved back. "I – I should go into town and find someone…" His lips silenced hers. She could tell he had no experience with kissing, but his lips moved against hers warm and inviting and her traitorous body responded to his hunger. Her tongue drew along his lower top lip and when his mouth opened with a pant of breath it slipped between his lips to stroke and tease his own. His hunger and passion were unleashed and she was drowning in it.

She pulled back to lift his underarmor over his head and toss it aside. She ran her hands over his sculpted chest. Right now he had the physique of a small human, rather than a barrel chested dwarf, but right now that made him only more sexy in her eyes. Her nails lightly scraped over his tight nipples. His groan and panting breath fueled her need. She took his hand and raised him to a stand, before she pulled off her own under armor.

When she was down to naught but her skin, she took his hands and raised them to cup her large breasts. He handled them far more gently than she's expected. Since he didn't know what to do, she knew she had to tell him. "I want to feel the flick of your tongue, the graze of your teeth and the heat of your mouth on my breasts. Sweet stone…suckle me, Garrett." Her head fell back with a breathy moan when she felt the heat of his lips and tongue. Her fingertips slipped through his hair to hold him to against her. "Lower…please….go lower."

She watched him drop to his knees and felt the warm glide of his large hands slide down her sides and skim over her hips. Her anticipation and need grew as his kisses trailed down her ribs and over the flat of her belly. Fire pooled in her groin and she could feel the damp between her legs. His hands slid around to grip the curves of her ass. "By the ancestors…please don't stop," she moaned when he hesitated. She felt the heat of his breath against her sensitive flesh and thought she would die from want. And then his tongue slipped between her folds to bump against the part of her that was swollen for him. She cried out with pleasure. "There…yes there…don't stop."

His hands gripped her tighter and he pulled her closer, her pleasure increasing. She clung to his head, holding him to her, her hips rocking against him as his tongue propelled her towards the brink of ecstasy. "Garrett…" she whimpered. "I'm going to come for you…don't stop…" she said as her body stiffened, balanced on the edge and then tumbled over with harsh cry.

He'd never been with a woman before and he thought he might embarrass himself, because he wasn't sure of what to do, but she never gave him the chance to feel awkward or embarrassed and each pleasure he'd given her had become his own. He was hard as stone and aching to feel her heat, but he was also filled with love and pride that he'd been able to give her what she needed.

When she squirmed and pulled back, he saw her hand and took it. She raised him and then dropped to her knees to lower his breeches and remove his boots. Her fingernails grazed down his tight belly and then he felt her fingers slide down his straining shaft. He released a harsh breath and looked down to watch her tongue slide up his arousal. Pleasure spiraled through him. As her tongue began to flick over a sensitive spot he cried out and his legs began to tremble. His chest rumbled when he felt himself slide into the heat of her mouth. He felt a tightness curl deep inside him, growing with each slide of her mouth. He was lost to the suction, the wet heat and the movements of her tongue and hand. He felt like he was rushing towards something unknown and he was about to smack into it full bore. "I'm going to..." he gasped out, but he was not quite sure what he was going to do. The vibrations of her chuckle rippled through him. He felt his testicles tighten in the palm of her hand and bellowed at the force of the explosive pleasure that overwhelmed him.

He slowly slipped from the heat of her mouth and lowered himself to his knees. His mouth captured hers and he slowly lowered them to the ground, needing more. Her thighs parted and settled between them, slowly sliding into her tight, hot heat. It took a few minutes of slow, gentle thrusting for his sensitivity to fade, but it also gave him time to discover the angle she preferred him to thrust at. H

He made love to her mouth, her neck and her breasts as moved his hips harder and faster. Her legs wrapped around him and she met each of his thrusts, driving him deeper into her heat. "You are a sensual and beautiful woman with a hunger and need that a man could get lost in. I will never regret waiting to give myself to you. I have found more pleasure in your arms than I ever dreamed possible," he murmured against her ear. No matter what happens, I love you." His mouth claimed hers as he drove into her clinging sheath. He swallowed her guttural cry when her body stiffened in his arms and her muscles clamped down around him, catapulting him over the edge of heaven.

Empty and sated, he remained buried in her heat, feeling the small spasms that continued to rhythmically grip him. When they finally dwindles he pulled her into his arms and carried her down into the rock pool. He found a small ledge under the water and settled her on it.

Zevran heard the splashing of water as he drew closer. His legs straining as he ran through the trees to reach them before it was too late. Lor had much to tell him, much that he had needed to hear. He wasn't sure how she knew what she was telling him, but he clung to her words, wanting to believe in them more than he wanted to breathe. Somehow, she'd gotten him to tell her everything he was feeling, then she'd probed deeper to discover his fears. Again, he wasn't sure why he told her, but he had. She then proceeded to tell him what a fool he was being. She'd asked him what he'd be willing to give up for love, but she didn't give him time to answer. So he assumed she'd wanted him to think about it. She'd then asked him if he'd be willing to live in Orzammar if it meant he could keep Syn. She'd said she could feel how much Syn loved him and how badly he'd hurt her. Hurt her? He hadn't known. He knew she'd cared about him as a friend and had enjoyed him in her bed, but he hadn't known that she loved him. He couldn't lay the blame at her feet, though – he hadn't told her how he felt either and now…now he just had to hope he was not too late.

His feet slowed when he saw them in the rockpool. Garrett swimming towards Syn with a predatory gleam in his eyes. Maybe he had arrived just in time. "Leave now, my friend. I need to speak with Syn."

Garrett stilled in the water and looked up at the elf, a frown on his lips. "You've hurt her enough for one day. Go away, Zevran." He knew that the future would likely be decided right now and he wasn't ready for that. Because he knew, if Zevran wanted her back, he'd lose her.

Zevran looked from Garrett to Syn. "I know – or at least I've been made aware of that. I – there is much I would say to you…privately." His gaze slid to Garrett who had moved to stand protectively in front of Syn, shielding her from his view. His hands tightened into fists. Every part of him wanted to destroy the rival that stood between him and the woman he'd fallen in love with, but the choice was ultimately hers, not either of theirs.

Syn was feeling incredibly awkward right now and seeing him brought back the pain. "What more could you possibly tell me? Are you going to ask me to release you from your oath? You have more than proven yourself to me. If you don't want to be here with…us, then…"

He didn't want her to say any more. Not about letting him go. He didn't want her to release him from his vow. He pulled his underarmor over his head and dropped it to the ground. "Hush, my dear. Your Lor gave me an understanding I previously lacked. I was pushing you away to save my heart; I thought there was no place for me in your world. I might have been hasty in that belief, no?"

Her eyes widened when he began to remove his underarmor. She swallowed hard. "Zev…"

One boot hit the ground, followed by the second. He looked around Garrett and drank in her beauty, from her damp blonde hair that curled becomingly at her cheeks to where the water lapped at her bounteous breasts, giving him a tantalizing peek at one of her nipples. "You love me, yes?" He asked, not caring that his voice had grown husky with need for her. A need that was very prominently displayed though his underarmor breeches.

And there it was. She placed a hand on the top of Garrett's shoulder. "Gar – I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you."

He looked back at her wanting to pull her into his arms and hold her, but he knew that would be a mistake. "I know," he said quietly. "I have no regrets." He turned, before he could do something stupid like beg her to love him, and climbed out of the pool. He dressed as quickly as he could; his heart panged when he heard the splash of Zevran entering the pool. He hurried from the clearing, weaved through the trees to find the peace of his tent. Oghren, his tent-mate, was snoring. So much for peace. He rolled onto his side and placed a pillow over his ears. His heart might be breaking, but he had no regrets. He had memories.

Syn watched him leaving, feeling guilty about hurting him, until she looked up into the heat that simmered in Zev's eyes. "Yes…"

His brow lifted. "Yes, what?" he prodded.

She gave his chest a playful push. "I love you."

A grin spread over his lips as he stepped between her legs . "That is good to hear. I must admit I have fallen hopelessly in love with you, my dear, and I don't quite know what to do about it."

She slid her hands up his chest to lock them around his neck. "Never letting me go again would be a nice start."

He slipped his arms around her waist. "Done. But, how do you intend to pass me off as a dwarf? I doubt I would be able to fool anyone, should they look too hard."

She chuckled at the absurdity of that thought. "I am queen now, Zev. I shall require a skilled assassin to keep me safe. No one would blink more than twice if I had a personal body guard. As queen, it is my right to choose who that bodyguard will be. You have fought through the Deep Roads with me and will fight the blight with me. So long as we keep our…affection behind closed doors, they will come to accept your place at my side." She released a slow breath. "Keeping my hands off you will be hard," she admitted.

"This is true," he agreed. "Though, the deception will prove entertaining." He lifted a finger to graze her cheek. "You mentioned once that you would marry the man you loved. It still holds true, yes?"

Her heart fluttered. "Why, Zevran Arainai, are you asking me to marry you?"

He leaned in to kiss her forehead. "If you need to ask, then I have failed magnificently. In my defense, I've no experience in the art of proposing. But I would hope that were a welcome thing, yes?"

She grinned. "Oh yes – I wouldn't want it any other way." She cleared her throat. "Zevran Arainai, will you spend the rest of your life making love to me and only me, multiple times a day? Will you promise to never withhold from me your sinfully wicked tongue, your talented, nimble fingers, or your gloriously thick arousal? Will you hold me safe in your arms every night and kiss my belly when it grows round with our children? Will you love me and cherish me, as I will you, until the last breath slips from our lips?"

She knew just what to say to make him wild for her. He pulled her to the edge of the rock ledge; their bodies flush as he sank into her tight, hot sheath. "Now that is a scintillating proposal. I promise all of that and more, my love…so much more."

When the water splashed too high, he picked her up and turned around to sit on the ledge himself with her astride him. It was his favorite position, truth be told. There was something primal about being buried so deep in her that he touched her womb. He leaned down to claim her lips as he drove into her with a frenzy of pent up need. She brought him hurtling over the edge when her muscles gripped him like a fist a moment before she was lost to her own ecstasy.

By the end of that two weeks, they were all antsy to leave. Kael, Lor, Leliana, Kadar, Angelia and Alistair headed back down to Redcliffe. The rest of their large party left with Bhodan and Sandal towards Denerim. With the wagon in tow, they would be moving much slower and making more stops to rest the draft horse that pulled it. Oghren had even been pleased when he'd been given a bay pony by the name of Roy that Lyrica had taught to bend low so he could get on. At least the ground was not so far away now.


	10. A Thedas Tale Ch10 - Civil War

Dragon Age

A Thedas Tale

Ch 10 – Civil War

"I'm not giving up the fight!" Darling bellowed as she strapped on her armor, emblazoned with crest of her Bann. Her mother had turned the bannorn over to her. As Bann, it was her duty to fight for her home. Loghain may have thought he'd won, but the fight was not over.

"Please, sister!" Lorwynn tried to tug the daggers from Darling's hand. "Our father's dead, our mother is grieving …our defenses routed and many of our soldiers killed. If you go after Loghain's men…I'll lose you too! This is madness! We are all Winter's Breath bannorn has left."

Three bannorns had banned together to fight Loghain's push and they'd lost. She pulled away from her sister and sank the daggers into their sheaths. "Do you honestly think that self-proclaimed regent is going to allow us to keep our titles…our lands? He will not be content until he's a goddamned emperor of Ferelden! Father should have listed to me. Now, we fight back _my_ way." She quickly braided back her pale blonde hair and tied it with a piece of soft leather.

"Then I'm going with you!" Lorwynn huffed, tucking her dark blonde hair behind her ear.

Darling's brow furrowed with a frown at her sister. While just as talented with a bow as she was, she did not want to see her almost fourteen year old sister going to battle. "Our mother is not well, you need to make sure she is eating and taking care of herself. And I'm relying on you to take care of Caer Wynt while I'm away – it is your duty."

Her fists clenched impotently. Now that her sister had brought honor and duty into it, she had to concede. "So help me, if you die I will kill you."

She hugged her sister tightly. "I'm too stubborn to die." With a last look at her little sister, she strapped on her quiver and flung her bow over her shoulder before making her way down the stairs. She located Bann Loren and Bann Franderel in the Greathall and sat down next to them on the bench. She settled her forearms on the table. "I have new tactics for the battle."

Bann Loren took a sip of ale and wiped his mouth with his hand. "There is no battle. We've lost."

Her bright blue eyes narrowed on the Bann. "Do you honestly think that...asshole is going to let us keep our titles or our lands? Do you think he will let us live? He won't. He knows that so long as we live we will never bow to him; he'll need to give control of the bannorns to his own men. He may have won the battle, but the war is not over. I have no intention of laying my head on the chopping block for him. He will _not_ have my bannorn! Will you cede him yours?"

Franderel exhaled harshly. "What would you have us do, child?"

She knew her look was hard, she knew she had to prove herself. "I am _Bann_ Darling, not child. You would do well to remember that."

Loren laughed, nearly choking on his ale. "You're _darling_ for sure-"

Her dagger was out, pricking his neck. "And _you_ would be wise to silence your tongue. If you think me inadequate to fill my father's shoes then choose your champion. But don't choose one you wish to lose."

Loren blinked, feeling a drop of blood slide down his neck. When she pulled the blade away he wiped the blood off and brought his finger to his mouth. "You have a great deal of spirit. I know you can fight, I saw you at your father's side. But what you are suggesting is suicide. We do not have the men left to meet Loghain on the field of battle."

"And so we won't. Honor is important but so is survival. And right now, if we intend to keep our lives and our lands then we fight for survival. I will take warriors and engage him head on after nightfall. You both take your archers and mages – strike and slip away. Do not engage. His men will lose moral as more of them die by an enemy they cannot see. I will only send a line of soldiers to confront them, the rest will have crossbows and shield walls. When you hit them from behind, my warriors will slip back and change places with one of the rows of shield wall bearers so that their wounds can be bound and fresh warriors will advance to take on Loghain's men. Just before the dawn breaks the sky we will slip away and return to the safety of Caer Wynt, where the mages can heal our men and rest. Scouts can warn us if they move to attack the keep."

"Loghain would torch the villages during the day," Franderel pointed out.

She shook her head. "Our people have already been moved into the keep – but Loghain's men no longer have him to bolster them. One of my scouts saw him and a group of knights riding out last night. He considers the battle here won. That is a lesson he will learn the hard way. I think his men will be more concerned with ambush than destroying villages. And perhaps we should send a few men out during the day to continue to pick at them and keep them distracted. Then we will hit them hard again come nightfall. We'll continue this until they either leave or decide they're going to hit us before we can hit them again. If that happens then I will hit their front while you both hit their flanks. By the time that happens, we should have evened out the playing field."

Loren nodded, surprised by the young Bann's strategy. "What about Commander Wicks?"

Her grin was icy cold. "He's mine…and he will feel my kiss. It is too bad he will not live to regret killing my father."

Franderel sighed and raked a hand through his thinning grey hair. "Your strategy lacks honor, but it is sound. And you are right; it is not about honor now – but survival. I agree to your strategy, young Bann."

Loren took another swig and slammed his tankard down. "Then we stand. I will not hand my head or my lands over to that traitor."

"So let it be," she replied with an incline of her head. "Then we should advise our men and make ready for nightfall."

She looked up at the half-moon and nodded. It was time. She threw a crested, long blanket over her large, white gelding, Beaumont. She buckled on his leather lined armor after saddling and bridling him. The steel armor lined with leather kept their movements nearly silent and it also kept him covered so his white coMarig did not stand out like a gleaming beacon. The other two Banns had already left with the archers and mages, as they would have a further distance to go.

She mounted and moved to the front of the column of soldiers. They were on foot, but she was mounted for a reason. She could aim well from the back of a moving horse and she intended to ride back and forth across the field to distract the enemy. Being mounted would also give her the distinction of a high-ranking general and although that placed a target on her it would also serve as a distraction, because taking out the leader can be the difference between winning and losing a battle.

They'd taken out three scouts before they could see the glow of the enemies' camp fires. Arrogant asses. All the better to see you. She raised her bow and took out two archers standing guard before a cry broke the enemy's camp. As men began to rise to the call of battle her men struck with a rain of bolts. Then battle cries echoed in the night as her first line of soldiers ran to engage the enemy.

When the other two Banns loosed their arrows, she took off across the field drawing attention to give her men the distraction they needed to slip back into the trees to swap places with fresh soldiers. Any enemy that pursued received a crossbow bolt for the trouble.

At the first hints of dawn they retreated back through the trees, covering their retreat with a bombardment of bolts. They'd lost six men that night, but the enemy had lost far more. All in all, it was a success. But they knew the enemy would be prepared the following night. They were in four hour sleep rotations. Two smaller groups of archers were sent out to hit the enemy from different sides. When they returned two more groups were sent out. They did not want to give the enemy time to think…only react.

By the end of the third night they'd lost a total of twenty one men. But the enemy had lost over 200. It was a horrible waste of life with the darkspawn tearing up the south, but they would die before they would let tyranny rule the bannorn. There was little sleep come the fourth morning; the enemy was on the move. She swung up on Beaumont's back and nodded at the two Banns that were going to flank enemy. "This is it! For freedom!" she yelled as she raced off towards the enemy line. She gave Beau his head and pulled her bow.

As the battle progressed, she kept Beaumont on the move, knowing she was a target they would not let escape. Her saddle bags were full of arrows. While she could fight with her daggers, she could do far more damage with her bow. A sharp whistle drew her attention. With a glance back at the battle she sped towards her army's flank. She spun Beau around when mounted orlesian chevaliers burst forth to engage Loghain's men. One separated and rode straight for her. She nudged Beau's sides and moved in to meet the man, her bow drawn. She lowered it when the man's hands stayed well away from his weapons.

Cyril was stunned to discover the woman that led the bannorn army was breathtakingly beautiful. He pulled off his plumed helmet and settled it onto his lap. "I am Lord Cyril de Montfort. A Grey Warden from Ostagar stumbled across us and told us what happened. I sent a couple of men to Chateau Haine to seek reinforcements. But I sought to offer our assistance with that dishonorable blackguard...provided you do not turn us away."

She had to force her gaze from the attractive black haired, light blue eyed Lord to look out over the battle. "Considering your men are already engaging Loghain's I can hardly turn you away." Her eyes lifted to his. "I'm Bann Darling Mari Telmen of Winter's Breath Bannorn. Do you fight as beautifully as you look?" she teased and then wheeled Beaumont towards the battle.

He grinned and settled the helmet back onto his head. "Oui, Darling…I believe I do," he murmured and kneed his white gelding after hers. He withdrew his sword and tried to keep his mount, Luc, between her and the battle. On more than one occasion he lost sight of her during the skirmish. He yanked his sword from a soldier and spun Luc around when he saw her mount launch itself off the top of a small boulder and over the heads of the enemy below it. He reined to a stop and his mouth fell open when she jumped from the saddle into the fray, her daggers drawn. "Mon dieu…Darling…no…" He drove Luc through the center of the remaining enemy line, his sword slashing at everything as he worked his way towards her. He saw three men fall to her daggers, heard her whistle, but they were closing in around her. His own men were riding hard towards him. He leaned to the left, caught her around the waist and pulled her up in front of him as his men encircled them, fighting their way back out of the thick of the battle. He caught sight of her mount alongside his and realized she'd called the armored horse to her. Still, he was furious. That was not a well thought out escape.

She knew she'd bitten off more than she could chew, but when she caught sight of Commander Wicks, fury took the place of wisdom. She'd killed the man that killed her father, but without Cyril's intervention she wasn't sure if Beau would have made it to her on time. His arm was like a vice around her. She noticed his men returned to the fight while he rode on into a copse of trees before pulling to a stop.

He yanked his helmet off and dropped it on the hook on the side of his saddle. He dismounted and pulled her down with him, careful to keep his mount between the battle and them. He spun her around and gripped her arms. "Qu'est-ce que tu foutais? Es-tu fou?" He shook his head at her blank look. "What the hell were you doing?"

She looked up into the fury of his light blue eyes and wondered why he cared at all. "Dancing with death! Look, I saw Commander Wicks and lost it. He killed my father a few days ago and I swore I would kill him!"

"Did you succeed?"

"Yes!"

"And then what, Darling? You were going to die for your vengeance? Is that what your father would have wanted?"

She tried to pull back but he wouldn't release her. "No! I knew Beaumont would come for me. I told you I lost reason! Why do you even care what I do or what happens to me?"

She'd given her mount an Orlesian name; perhaps she was not averse to everything Orlais. "Perhaps, belle cherie, I am a jealous suitor and do not wish to share you with death." He knew he was laying everything on the line with those bold words, but with the blight swarming over Ferelden, time was not something they had a lot of.

Suitor? Her gaze slid from his mesmerizing eyes down to his chiseled lips. When they parted with a breath her eyes darted back up to meet his. This time, his blue eyes were dark with something other than fury. "You wish to court me?"

Her bright blue eyes had warmed and he wanted to drown in them. "Would you allow me the honor, cherie?"

"It's Darling," she reminded him.

A slow smile spread across his lips. "Would you allow me the honor, my Darling?"

She could feel the heat crawl into her cheeks. He'd made her name sound like a caress that sent shivers down her spine. She pulled back and mounted Beau to put some distance between them. "We have a battle to win, my Cyril. I will give you my answer afterwards." She wheeled Beau around raced back towards the battle, pulling the bow from her shoulder.

"Merde…" he grumbled when she took off again, but still he could not wipe the grin off his face. He mounted Luc, slid the helmet over his head and chased after her. He bellowed a battle cry and drove into the fray, eager to put an end to the battle.

Less than an hour later, what remained of Loghain's troops threw down their weapons and surrendered. They were marched off the battlefield to spend time in Caer Wynt's dungeon. Wounded from all sides were taken to the courtyard where cots and bedrolls were set up. Guards were posted to ensure all wounded were treated with care. The villagers were released to return to their homes. She showed the chevaliers to the stable so that they could take care of their mounts. She left her mount in the care of a stable boy so that she could check on the wounded and instructed him to attend to Cyril's mount as well.

Her sister caught up with her in the courtyard. She hugged her tightly before turning to introduce her to Cyril. "Lorwynn, I'd like you to meet Cyril. He and his men helped to end the battle faster than it would have otherwise ended. My sister has been seeing to Caer Wynt during the war."

"We appreciate your timely assistance," Lorwynn told him and held out her hand.

He bowed over her hand, brushing his lips lightly against it. "The pleasure is mine, mademoiselle."

"Lorwynn, please show the chevaliers to their rooms in the keep – they are currently over at the stables. They will have to double up since we are also housing the nobles of two other bannorns. Have all the servants heating water and filling tubs in their rooms. I'm sure they will all welcome a bath before supper's festivities."

Lorwynn looked from the handsome orlesian to her sister and grinned. The man had a hard time keeping his eyes off Darling. She knew it might ruffle feathers, but she didn't care. The war was over before she was even born. "I'll see you in the Greathall."

She spent a moment at the side of each of the wounded, thanking them for standing at her side and letting them know that supper would be brought out to them soon. With that done she rose and felt the heat of his body at her back. For just a moment, she nearly gave into the need to lean back against him in exhaustion. With a slow release of breath she motioned him to follow. "I'm heading to the Greathall, I'm sure the other Banns are already toasting to the victory. You know…"she said, giving him an impish grin. "You never did kiss my hand."

He picked up her hand, her glove covering it down to the first knuckles of her fingers. "It was hidden from my lips." He pulled her to a stop. "Perhaps I am permitted to kiss something else instead?"

"My cheek?" she asked softly.

"Close…" he murmured and lowered his head to brush his lips against hers in a slow, seductive glide. He forced himself to pull back and be the gentleman he was. For a moment time was suspended as he lost himself in the heat of her brilliant blue eyes. "We should go inside before I forget that we are not alone."

His husky voice caused heat to pool between her legs. Her body swayed towards his until his words sank through and she blinked and turned away with embarrassment. "Of course."

He took her hand and leaned down to her ear. "Do not be embarrassed, my Darling. You have the same effect on me," he admitted before releasing her hand and following her into the keep.

As expected, she found the Banns and their nobles laughing and drinking.

Franderel stood up and clapped her on the shoulder. "Your father would be proud of you! Marvelous strategy! No doubt we'd have routed those bastards even if the orlesians didn't show up!"

She forced a smile. "That is most unkind. I am thankful they arrived when they did. It surely saved a lot of our men's lives and I'm most grateful. Bann Franderel, Bann Loren, I'd like to introduce you to the chevalier's leader, Lord Cyril de Montfort." The men gave their grudging respect and returned to their boisterous drinking. She shook her head and sighed. "Come on, let's stop at the armory and then find you a room."

She led him to back on the left where the armory was and removed her armor and weapons to be cleaned and sharpened. She stretched out the kinks while she waited for him to finish. When she looked over at him she noticed he was staring at her and she looked down to make sure underarmor wasn't torn. Everything looked okay. She looked back over at him but he was busy removing the last of his armor to hand it to one of the servants to clean and repair. Her gaze traveled down his body and she blushed when she saw the bulge in his pants. She knew it was likely a codpiece, but her cheeks still flamed. Her eyes darted up to his and was even more embarrassed when she discovered he'd caught her looking. She turned and hurried quickly out of the armory wishing the floor would open up and swallow her whole. What must he think of her brazenness? She'd seen men in their underarmor all her life and she'd never once ogled one of them. Oh, sweet hell. Had she heard him chuckle?

She met her sister at the top of the stairs. "Which room is free?"

"Yours, mine and mother's…where, oh where, should be we put him?" Lorwynn teased, noticing her sister's flushed face.

Of course. "He can use mine."

Lorwynn looked up at the handsome orlesian. "Are you sure? I'd be willing to share."

Darling rolled her eyes. "Off with you, now. See how supper's coming. We need to make sure the wounded and the prisoners are fed before we dine." She shooed her sister with a playful swat to her backside. Still unable to look at him, she motioned for him to follow. "This way."

He'd been caught off guard by her form fitting underarmor. It was lightly padded, rather than bulky and it clung to every curve. He'd wanted to cover her up so no one else could see her, but at the same time he wanted to look his fill. And he did as he followed her down the hall.

She opened the door to her quarters and showed him in. "My room is yours until our guests clear out." She jumped when the heavy door closed itself and turned to look up at him. "Unless you intend to leave tomorrow?"

A slow smile spread on his lips. "I find I am in no hurry to depart." He took her hand and raised it to his lips for a lingering kiss. "For how can I court you, my Darling, if I am not here to do so?"

She looked from her hand to his lips. "I think I prefer something else…" She blinked and spun around when her cheeks flooded with heat. She hadn't meant to say that out loud. Since he had not released her hand she was not sure what she was supposed to do. She was treading in unfamiliar water with him.

It took him a moment to realize what she'd meant, that she was referring to their earlier conversation. He pulled on her hand to bring her back around to him. He settled her hand against his chest, slipped one arm around her waist and cupped the back of her head. "So do I…"

She felt the fan of his breath against her lips and her heart nearly leapt out of her chest. His mouth nuzzled the corner of her lips, before she once against felt the tantalizing feathering of his breath against her. By the time his lips touched hers she was nearly starved for it. They molded against hers, warm and pliant, sensual and seductive and when she felt the wet heat of his tongue tease the crease of her lips, they parted in a breathy moan. With the first slide of his tongue against hers she was drowning in new and delicious sensations. Her hands slid up his chest to circle around his neck to hold him to her. His arms answered by tightening around her and she could feel the hard press of his codpiece against her belly. She reached down to move it into a slightly more comfortable position and stilled when his body trembled and his breath came out in a harsh groan.

He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers, trying to rein in his need for her. He wanted to make love to her, but he could not. His ingrained sense of honor and chivalry would not let him touch her unless she was his wife. The press of her lips and flick of her tongue against his neck nearly sent him to his knees.

"Take off your codpiece," she murmured against his neck. "It's very hard against me."

He cupped her face and brushed his lips against hers. "Tu seras la mort de moi. Je veux te faire l'amour jusqu'a ce que le dernier souffle glisse de on corps." He released a ragged breath at her questioning look. Her blue eyes were dark with passion and her lips swollen from his kisses - it was all he could do not to kiss her again. "I am not wearing a codpiece. What you feel is…my desire for you."

She blinked to clear her thoughts. "What? Not a…and I…Bloody hell…what must you think of me…I – I am so sorry." Her cheeks stung with mortification and she pushed at his chest to get away. She wanted to go hide…maybe in her armoire…maybe not come out …ever…

He kept his arm clamped around her waist; his softly kissed her pink cheeks before capturing her mouth in a tender melding of lips and tongue until she melted against him. "I feel no embarrassment in how my body responds to you." Another gentle kiss. "There is no embarrassment from your touch." His lips grazed hers once more. "I crave your touch more than I ever dreamed possible." He kissed a trail to her ear. "I will woo you until you accept my troth." His tongue flicked the shell of her ear and his teeth grazed the lobe of her ear before his lips worked their way down the column of her neck. "And then I will cherish you until the last breath slips from my body." He nipped gently at her neck. With her cry and the tug on his hair he raised his lips to capture hers.

He broke the kiss and brought his lips to her forehead. His body was trembling with a hunger that was ripping away his control. "Get your things, my Darling and take your bath while it is still warm. It is not safe for you to tarry any longer, at least not right now."

Despite his words, he seemed in no hurry to release her and for that she was glad. She wasn't sure if her shaky legs could hold her. "Safe?" she whispered.

A shaky breath slipped from his lips. Blue eyes bore into blue eyes. "I am honor bound not to touch you until you are my wife. And right now I need to make love to you more than I wish to breathe. If you do not leave now, I fear my honor will fail us both," he admitted.

She thought the idea of giving her innocence to a man would frighten her but instead his words curled warm in her belly. Her hands slid up under his shirt to caress his skin. "And if I want to stay?" she asked softly.

He shivered when he felt her nails skim down his chest. "My Darling…I am trying to do what is right and honorable. I swore to give my chastity to my bride and you are sorely testing my resolve."

She slipped her arms around him, pressed the side of her face against him and held him close, her fingers playing over the soft skin of his back. "And you want me to be that bride?"

"Épouse-moi hier ... épouse-moi la semaine dernière ou mets-moi hors de ma misère. Je ne souhaite pas passer une journée sans toi avec moi. Oui, my Darling. None but you."

She smiled softly and then pulled back to look up into his light blue eyes. "I do not want an empty, noble marriage. Ask me again when you love me and I will give you an answer. Until then, my Cyril…you better have eyes for only me." She rose up onto her toes and brushed her lips over his and then went to get her clothing for the evening.

His hand rose to his heart. "None but you…" he murmured as the door closed behind her.

-BREAK ONE-

She did not hear his parting words, but she was eager to see him again. Perhaps he would even choose to dance with her. Clothes! He had nothing to wear! He could hardly dine in his underarmor. He was a visiting dignitary, a duke's son. She instructed the servant in her sister's room to have a manservant take one of her father's suits to her chambers for the Lord to wear. It wouldn't be a perfect fit, but it was far better than the alternative. With that done, she sank into the cooling bath water. His kisses had been worth it.

She really wished she knew the orlesian tongue. It really sounded like he said far more than he translated. Cold water had forced her from the bath sooner than she would have liked. She ran her hands down her gown, looking at herself in the mirror. The bodice molded to her breasts and waist, the neckline dipping to display her cleavage. The skirt flared slightly after fitting to her hips. She slipped into healed slippers and ran her fingers through the long waves of light blonde hair that she'd freed from her braid. She lined her eyes with a touch of kohl and ran her teeth over her lips to give them more color.

Lorwynn grinned at her sister. "Look at you…all dressed up to impress the orlesian lord," she teased.

"Oh hush! Just wait until you meet someone that makes your heart flutter – I will tease you to no end!" she warned her sister. "I don't suppose mother will be joining us?"

"No," Lorwynn said quietly. "I already had her meal sent to her room. "It doesn't feel right to celebrate with papa gone."

She drew her sister into her arms. "He would be proud of our victory. He'd have been the first to toast to freedom. So we will celebrate to honor him." When they left Lorwynn's room, her sister nudged her and pointed behind them. She turned to see Cyril, dressed in her father's suit and boots, leaning against the wall.

He straightened and stared at the vision in front of him, his heart slamming hard in his chest. The outfit was a little snug and he'd been forced to leave buttons undone down to his chest; he'd folded the sides back and creased them as best he could, but it was a far sight better than underarmor. He walked slowly towards her, wanting nothing more than to pull her into his arms and lift her skirts as he kissed the swells of her breasts. He cleared his throat. "Mon dieu, tu es l'air que je respire. You are breathtaking, my Darling."

She grinned when he took her hand and drew it through the crook of his arm. She ran her finger down the exposed skin of his chest. "And you are as beautiful as you are daring. Though I'm glad it…mostly fits. Still…I shall enjoy the scandalous skin you are displaying," she teased.

He brought her errant fingers to his lips and lowered his gaze to the swells of her breasts. "And so shall I." His gaze moved to her younger sister. "Lorwynn, you are looking lovely this evening." He held his other arm out to her as well and walked both young ladies down the stairs and into the Greathall. He located a free spot at one of the long tables. He felt comfortable seating Lorwynn next to the young chevalier. He had joined them only recently but was already proving himself to be a devout and talented chevalier. He settled between the women and helped them fill their trays from the platters that lined the table.

Michel glanced over at the young woman that sat down next to him. When she looked up at him he froze, her silver eyes shimmering in the candlelight. He released a breath he didn't know he was holding. "I'm Ser Michel de Chevin and I would be honored to have your acquaintance."

She smiled up at a man that put all others to shame. Blonde hair swept back from a tanned face…chiseled cheeks…square jaw…sculpted lips and blue eyes that put the sky to shame. "I am Lady Lorwynn Telmen, if we are to be so formal. And you, Ser, are the most beautiful man alive. I would quite imagine that you have ladies everywhere swooning at your feet."

He could feel the heat burning in his cheeks. The other chevaliers had teased him for years, calling him pretty. But her words did not irritate him, rather they warmed him. "Please…call me Misha. And to be honest, I've had very little experience around ladies. I have been in training for a number of years. But, I would not be averse were you to swoon."

Her grin widened. "I shall keep that in mind, provided you promise to catch me good Ser. It would be quite undignified to end up in a heap on the floor."

He chuckled. "I would never allow that to happen, my Lady. The floor does not deserve such beauty to adorn it."

"But your arms do?" she teased.

"My arms would be honored by such a boon, my Lady."

Not only could she spend the rest of her life just looking at him, but he made her shiver all over and had the manners her mother would approve of. What more could a girl want? She placed a hand on his forearm. "Please, call me Lorwynn. I do not wish such formality between us."

His cheeks warmed again. "As you wish, my L – Lorwynn."

Her hand slid down his arm, her finger playing over his hand, her eyes alight with mischief. "Perfect! Then I'm yours and you may call me _your_ Lorwynn anytime you wish, provided you mean it," she teased.

Darling leaned over in front of Cyril, her breasts resting on his forearm. "Lorwynn you will send him running to the hills with such forward talk!" she hissed softly.

The young woman had surely knocked him for a loop and he'd yet to regain his composure. Even so, she intrigued him like no other. "You will find I am not so easily frightened, my Lady."

Lorwynn nodded her head and turned to her sister. "I want him. He makes my heart flutter and makes me all warm and tingly inside. My bloody nipples are so hard they ache. You told me Cyril makes you feel the same way. So, if you can have your Cyril then I want my Misha."

Darling's mouth fell open and her cheeks flamed. She turned away and looked down at her plate before closing her eyes in abject mortification. Her sister's blunt outspokenness would surely be the death of her. She could feel the heat of Cyril's gaze but could not bear to look at him. Not after what her sister had said.

A wicked grin settled on Lorwynn's face. She probably should not have said what she had, she often spoke before thinking, but with her sister and Cyril no longer paying attention to her she turned back to look up into Michel's baby blue eyes. "Do you want me, Misha?" she asked softly.

"Yes," he said hoarsely. His composure just slid out the door and he wondered if he'd ever get it back…at least around her.

Her tongue slid out to moisten her upper lip. She saw his gaze lower to watch and her core clenched. "Do you want me as your own?" she asked in a voice bordered husky.

He swallowed hard. "Mon Dieu, oui…yes."

She picked up a ripe strawberry from her plate and held it to his lips. After he took a bite she slid the rest into her mouth. "They say strawberries are aphrodisiacs…do you wish to have another?"

A shaky breath slipped from his throat. "As tasty as they are, I have little need of that sort of…help. And perhaps it is better if I abstain."

She grinned and settled her hand on his thigh, above his high boot, her fingers absently tracing patterns on his soft underarmor. "And if I do not wish you to abstain? What if I want to feel your skin against mine? What if I want your lips to worship every inch of me? What if I want to feel you inside me?"

She had finally managed to bring him to his knees. "Tu me tues, mon cheri. Je veux faire l'amour avec vous, but I would never dishonor you."

She wasn't sure what he'd said, but it sounded beautiful. She cupped the far side of his neck and pulled his ear down to her mouth. "Then marry me."

His heart turned over in his chest. She did not know who he really was. He dreaded telling her the truth about himself but he would not dishonor her with lies. "Eat and we will talk. If you still wish it, then we will wed." He could only hope that she would keep what she learned between the two of them, regardless whether she married him or not.

Darling looked over at her sister and the young man that seemed to be wearing an eternal blush. She could certainly sympathize with that. Her sister could be a force to be reckoned with. Whereas her own blushes were mostly self inflicted. Except for the last horrifying remarks her sister had made to her. She still wasn't able to look at Cyril.

When Cyril noticed Darling was done eating he leaned over and whispered in her ear. "We must talk, my Darling."

She rubbed her warm cheeks, nodded and rose. "Come, we will adjourn to the ballroom." When he held out his arm, she slipped her arm through it and kept her eyes forward as she led him to the adjacent ballroom, where soft melody was being strummed. It was a relief to be away from the boisterous Greathall, but that meant she was nearly alone with him and she still couldn't face him.

His gaze dropped to her cleavage and then to the tight tips of her breasts, a steadying breath slipped from him as he pulled her into a slow dance. "Tu es un temoignage de mon honneur, mon seul et unique cheri." His hands tightened at her waist, knowing she'd bolt at his next words. "I know that your sister's words discomfited you, but I am pleased that I make your heart flutter, that you are warm and tingly and…ache for my touch." When she squirmed in his grasp, he slipped his arm around her waist to ensure she would not bolt with her embarrassment. "Non, my Darling…do not run from me…from us. There is much I wish you to hear from my lips."

"May I cut in, Darling?" Devon inquired.

"No," Cyril replied, his gaze cold and his jaw clenched. He wanted blast the man for daring to call her Darling, but it was an illogical instinct because it was, in fact, her name.

She glanced up surprised by Cyril's icy tone. She turned to look at the attractive Lord. "I'm sorry, Lord Devon, as you can see I have a partner. Please recall that I refused your suit."

Devon stiffened at the insult. "But you would accept the suit of an orlesian, my Lady?"

"An orlesian that risked his life to save mine," she pointed out.

Devon flicked a piece of lint off his doublet. "I'd have done so, had I been aware your life was in danger," he replied tightly. "Your father approved of my suit."

Defiance flashed in her eyes. "But I did not and my father accepted that, Lord Devon. I apologize if you felt slighted, but I will never accept a marriage of convenience." Indeed, her parents had made several trips with Bryce and Eleanor to Orlais. They had been able to leave the past buried in the past and harbored no hatred of Orlais. She knew neither of her parents would have issue with Cyril.

Devon frowned. "Such a flight of fancy, my Lady. Surely, you do not expect an _orlesian_ to declare love for you. Stop acting the foolish child. Our match would strengthen both our bannorns."

"Enough!" Cyril growled, putting himself between Darling and the Lord. "The lady has made her lack of interest clear. And _this_ orlesian has already declared himself to the Lady. I intend for the banns to be posted come Sunday, so you _will_ stand down, Lord Devon, or you will answer my challenge."

Devon squared his shoulders and inclined his head. "Then I apologize for the intrusion. I shall take my leave, if you will excuse me," he said tightly.

"Of course, Lord Devon. Please enjoy your stay at Caer Wynt," she said politely. She watched him walk away and worried that might not be the end of things. When Cyril resumed the dance she looked up at him. "You did not need to lie."

This time it was his cheeks that grew warm. "I do not lie, my Darling, though mayhap I was over enthusiastic. That was not how I intended to declare myself to you. You bade me to ask you to wed when I loved you. You have had my heart from the start, my Darling." He stilled his feet, brought his hand around to take hers and he knelt down in front of her. "Bann Darling Telmen, will you consent to be my bride?"

Her hand fluttered over her heart as she looked down into light blue eyes that were filled with promise. She reached out and drew her fingertips down his cheek. "I will," she answered softly. She giggled when he picked her up and twirled her around. His lips met hers when he lowered her to the ground. "We must speak with my mother and then we can…post the banns."

-BREAK TWO-

Widow Darling slipped the parchment back into her lockbox on her desk and rose weakly to her feet at the knock on her door. She smiled at her eldest daughter who rushed in to hug her.

Darling eyed her mother's nearly untouched tray and the now loose fit of her dress. "Mother, you need to eat more."

Widow Darling patted her daughter's arm. "I will when I get hungry – I've not been feeling well." She looked up into a familiar face. "You are Prosper's son – Cyril, is it?"

Cyril bowed before the older Darling. "Oui, I am, indeed. It is a pleasure to see you again, my Lady Telmen. Your daughter, Lorwynn, favors you, madam. For that is how I remember you when last we met."

Her hand rose to just below her throat. "I must apologize for not greeting you properly upon your arrival."

"There is no need for an apology," he assured her. "I am aware of the circumstance and you have my condolences for your loss."

Her hand fluttered back down to her side to lock tightly with her other one. "I have been informed that you and your chevaliers assisted my daughter and the other Banns in regaining control of our lands. For this we owe you a boon. What would you ask of us, Lord Cyril?"

A smile spread on his lips. "We require no boon, as such, for our aid. When we heard news of the dishonorable actions of Teyrn Loghain and the blight, we immediately came to offer our aid. I have sent word to my father and expect reinforcements soon. I know we are not exactly welcome in Ferleden, but the blight threatens all of Thedas and we must stand together to defeat it."

"Would that all men felt as you did, Lord Cyril. And while you require no boon, as Lady of the Keep, I must insist. Your intervention saved the lives of our remaining men and my daughter as well," she said, glancing pointedly at her child. Her lips twitched but a smile did not form. "It would appear my daughter is a born leader. After we lost the battle she rallied the remaining men and whittled down the enemy forces until they sought to burn down one of our villages. She did not tolerate that and she led the charge for freedom. Your arrival could not have been more timely…it was as if the Maker himself had a hand in it."

"Mayhap he did, my Lady. A Grey Warden, a survivor of Ostagar, stumbled upon my chevaliers late one eve. Were it not for him, we would have been unaware of your plight or the blight. I sent him on to Chateau Haine for reinforcements. Maker willing, he survived the journey. But my men and I stand by regardless. The only thing I would ask of you is your continued hospitality until we journey to Denerim and…the hand of your daughter. She carries my heart, my Lady, and I do not wish it back."

His words could not have shocked her more. She studied the Lord and her daughter and noted the looks they gave each other. Their eyes glowed with feeling. So it was a love match. And it was a good match. Her daughter would be a duchess one day, even if she had to live in Orlais. "It is obvious this is more than a match for alliance or convenience and you have always been a young man of character, Lord Cyril. It is a sound match and I approve." Her gaze slid to her daughter. "You do realize that when you… leave for Orlais the bannorn will go to your sister?"

That was a given. Darling nodded. "Of course. She is a capable young woman, if a bit headstrong. But with the right grounding influence I think she will make a wonderful Bann."

She could see the mischievous glint in her daughter's eyes and wondered about it. "Is there something I should know?" she inquired with a tilt of her head.

Darling laughed softly. "I imagine Lorwynn will be by shortly to-" She turned her head at the sound of the door opening. "Sooner than I thought." She beamed a smile at her sister and Michel and moved to the side so they could greet her mother.

Lorwynn hugged her mother and promptly introduced her to Michel.

She studied her youngest and the man whose hand she clung tightly onto. While his cheeks were pink, his manner was calm and assured. They had the same glow about them as the older children. "I see…the grounding influence…" she murmured. Her gaze rose to Cyril's. "I do not know of the de Chevins. Do you vouch for the family and this young man?"

Cyril inclined his head. "I do, my Lady. His family has always served Orlais with distinction and Ser Michel is an exemplary chevalier – one of the best I've had under my command. It is unfortunate I will be losing him, but he will be a valiant and honorable protector of the bannorn."

Michel could only look on in shock. "But I thought…"

Cyril cocked a brow. "Did you wish to leave your wife behind for months or years at a time?"

He blinked. He'd wanted nothing more than to become a chevalier since he first found out it would be possible. He had not even considered a life without that duty. He looked down at the woman that had knocked him asunder and then back at his commander. "No, of course not, my Lord."

"Then I will submit your leave from service after the blight has been dealt with," Cyril informed him with a grin.

Widow Darling nodded and then turned to look at Michel. "Is there something you wished to ask me, Ser?

"Yes, my Lady, of course. It would appear that events have unfolded rather more backwards than I expected. I ask that you allow me Lorwynn's hand. I shall prove my worth whilst I work to pay the dowry."

She held up her hand. "The dower I will request from you is not monetary, but personal. My husband and I birthed no sons and no one to carry on his name. What I request from you is that you allow the children of your union to carry the name Telmen-de Chevin. Do you agree with the stipulation of the dower, Ser Michel?"

He knew he should balk such a stipulation. He knew most men likely would out of familial pride, but the name he was trying to create for himself in Orlais no longer mattered if he was to reside in Ferelden. And since he was elf-blooded and not of noble descent, it mattered even less. He saw the fire leap into Lorwynn's eyes and knew she was about to defend his honor. He'd told her of his past and the name he was creating for himself and was both amazed and relieved that she simply didn't care. He squeezed her hand. "I consent to the unique dower arrangement, my Lady. It will be an honor to pay homage to my new family and country in such a manner."

Cyril's brow furrowed. No mention had been made of his dower. "Would you like-"

One corner of the widow's mouth pulled up ever so slightly. " _Your_ dower will be monetary, Lord Cyril."

"Of course, my Lady," Cyril responded with a hearty laugh.

It was a relief to know that both of her daughters would be protected and cared for. "The banns will be posted forthwith. Now, if you will please excuse me…I am exhausted and would like to rest."

Darling's mouth tightened. "Of course, mother. But you will eat in the morning – you've got two weddings to plan."

"Oh, she will eat or I will sit on her and feed her like a babe," Lorwynn warned.

"I'll eat – Now, get out of here," she said as she shooed the children towards the door.

-BREAK THREE-

Two weeks later, now comfortable that they were indeed safe, the Banns and their men left to return to their own bannorns. Her men and the chevalier's would take turns keeping watch in case Loghain sent more soldiers to retake what they'd lost.

Exhausted from the long day of cleaning up after the guests' departure, she'd returned to her sister's room to fall into bed but when she opened the door what she saw something that terrified her and she didn't know what to make of it. She closed the door and ran to her own room without thinking and began to pace.

Cyril's eyes flew open and rose quickly from the tub before he caught sight of Darling and the fear and uncertainty that clouded her expression. He wrapped a towel around his waist and made haste to her side to find out what happened. He gripped her arms to halt her pacing. "What happened? Did Loghain send more men?"

She blinked and looked up into his eyes. "What? No. I saw – I saw…." But words failed her. She tried to pull away but she didn't have the strength.

"What did you see?" Something had upset her greatly and he needed to know so he would know what he needed to do to make the problem go away.

"My sister...Misha…" But again words failed her.

That alarmed him and he gripped her arms tighter. "Did something happen to them? Have they been hurt? Tell me exactly what you saw."

"They-they were in bed…but…"

Realization dawned and he burst out laughing. "I am surprised he lasted as long as he did – your sister was relentless. But they are as good as wed. I do not fault him for his weakness. She did not make it easy on him."

She shoved his chest. "Stop laughing! It wasn't like that. She was…she was…suffocating him."

His forehead furrowed and he frowned. He'd heard of dangerous play, but he never thought Michel would be craven enough for such a thing. "Was it with a pillow…or a belt?"

"No…she was…bloody hell – she was sitting on his face. Why would she try to hurt him like that? She's headstrong but she's not evil. I should have done something, but I ran. Maybe it's not too late!" She tore away from him, but in a blink she was held tight against him, trapped in his arms. "Let me go! I need to help him and…and…"

"And nothing…" he murmured, trying to keep a serious expression. He knew she would bolt when he explained things and he had no intension of letting her. "She wasn't hurting him. He was…making love to her."

"Don't be ridiculous!" she scoffed. "I have seen horses…I've seen dogs. I understand what sex is – that was not sex! She was hurting him!"

He pursed his lips. "Then why do I want you to hurt me like that?"

"What?" She pushed against him but he wouldn't even give her an inch. "I would never hurt you like that! I can't believe you ask me to!"

"My Darling, listen to me. She wasn't hurting him. He was…pleasuring her. It is…a part of making love. Think back to what you saw. Did it look like he was struggling to get away or struggling to breathe?"

She thought back through the memory of what she'd seen. "He was gripping her hips."

"Was he trying to push her off?" he asked gently.

"I – I don't know," she admitted.

That's one step in the right direction. "He's almost twice her size, my Darling, and a trained warrior. Don't you think he could have pushed her off if he wanted to? Did you see anything else?" he probed.

"I-" she could feel the heat in her cheeks. "He was…he was…" but she couldn't bring herself to say it.

A groan slipped from his lips. He was seducing himself imaging her astride his face. "He was aroused?"

"Yes…" she said in a strangled voice.

"And was your sister moaning as he pleasured her?" His grip tightened.

Ice pooled in her belly as she realized just what she'd seen. "Oh, sweet Maker…" She'd told him. She was an idiot. She'd embarrassed herself more times that she could count with him, but this…this - there was no getting over this. She struggled against his hold. "Let me go…let me go…please, Maker…let me go. I – I need to go…I beg you…"

Her struggles had dislodged his towel, which was now pooled at his feet, but he was beyond caring. "I'm not letting you go. You are an innocent, my Darling – you could not know. That is nothing to be embarrassed by."

She glared up at him. "If you're an innocent then how did you know?" she growled, tears slipping down her hot cheeks.

He brushed his lips over her tears. "Men speak of things they shouldn't. But I am thankful that I knew or we would have embarrassed your sister and Micha a great deal."

She lowered her eyes. "Just let me go…" she pleaded.

"I love you too much to let you go." With one arm firmly anchored around her he tilted her chin up and grazed his lips against hers. His hand splayed against her back as he sank his fingers into her pale blonde hair and deepened the kiss. He groaned when she melted against him, igniting the hunger for her that burned in him. His fingers slowly worked the buttons down the back of her dress, caressing each inch of skin revealed. When he released the buttons at the base of her spine and discovered she wore nothing beneath the dress, he was lost to her. Lost to the hunger. She was his bride, nothing would change that, but only she could stop him from making love to her tonight.

His hands skimmed slowly to her shoulders as his mouth trailed down the column of her neck, over her collar bone to the enticingly displayed cleavage. He drew his tongue along the swell of her breast as his fingers slid down her arms, taking the thin material of the dress with them. The dress slid to the floor in a whisper of material. Her slippers fell off her feet as he scooped her up into his arms and carried her to her bed.

He laid her gently on the bed and settled against her side. His eyes raked slowly down her body, seeking to memorize every inch of soft skin. "Il n'y en a pas du plus revissant que toi." His fingertip skimmed down her breast to circle the puckered bud. "Je crains que je ne me reveille et que je ne te trouve plud qu'un reve." His fingers slid down the flat of her belly and slipped through the short, pale curls to stroke over her damp folds. He groaned as his shaft thickened with her soft cry. "So soft…so silky…so sensuously slick and warm. If this is a dream then I wish never to wake, bride of my heart." His finger dipped lower and slowly sank into her heat. A ragged breath slipped from his lips and his body shuddered. "The sweetest glove I will ever know." He slowly withdrew to caress the hidden bud that made her body writhe. He lowered his head to flick his tongue over the tight bud and draw it into the heat of his mouth. Her hands slid through his hair to hold him to her.

"Cyril!" she gasped, barely able to think past the pleasure that was overwhelming her. "I thought we had to wait."

Her nipple slipped from his lips. He feathered kisses along her neck, her jaw and her lips. "I am supposed to give my chastity to my marriage bed. You are my bride…this is our bed. But I will wait to lose myself completely in you. For now…there is something I wish to do." Especially, now that he knew the movements she liked.

He rolled onto his back and pulled her down over him. When her legs straddled him he gripped her thighs and pulled her up his chest and past his shoulders until her thighs straddled his face. He gripped her hips when she tried to move and fanned a hot breath against her sensitive skin. He looked up past her full breasts and into her shocked but hunger darkened eyes as his tongue teased and tasted the opening that was to be denied to him before sliding through her soft folds to massage the swollen nub. Her throaty moans and cries of pleasure were seductive torture. His hands roamed her body as she rode him. He was so heavy with need for her that he could feel the wet of it on his belly. He could only pray that he did not embarrass himself.

"Something's going to happen," she moaned in little more than a breath.

He raised his chin to rub it against her. "Just let go, my Darling. Let it happen…come for me." He lowered his mouth and suckled the small bud, his tongue moving more aggressively against her. She threw her head back and her body stiffened. For a moment he thought he might have done something wrong, but then her hoarse cry of release eased his concern and compounded his need. He slowed his movements against her until she squirmed and slid down his body.

She rained butterfly kisses all over his face and lips. "I didn't know anything could feel so sinfully wonderful. I'm glad you stopped me from saving Misha." He cheeks grew warm and she buried her face in his neck and gave it a slight nip. She grinned when she felt him shiver. "It is odd that I could feel so much pleasure and yet still empty as if something were missing."

He rolled them over with a soft growl and settled between her thighs. He rocked against her slick heat, his body shaking with his slipping control. "Mon dieu – je ne peux plus prendre. I am fighting a battle I have already lost. My Darling love, we are meant to join as one. It is why you feel empty and why I ache to fill you." He stilled, poised at her portal, trying to gather the tatters of his resolve, when her legs came around him and pulled him in. Her body stiffened when he tore through her innocence, hilting himself in her tight heat. Her muscles spasmed and clenched around him in pain and he dropped his forehead to hers, the pleasure as overwhelming as the need to thrust. "Bon ange, le ciel n'est pas au-dessus – c'est dans tes bras. I would take your pain if I could."

She had been shocked by the pain. She hadn't realized there would be any. "You said more than that…" she murmured.

He grinned. "I said, 'Sweet angel, heaven isn't above – it is in your arms'. I seek only to give you pleasure and it pains me that I had to hurt you for us to be one."

She tilted up her chin to kiss his lips. "And that is why I love you." She loosened her legs and moved against him. "Make love to your bride."

He made love to her until they fell asleep with exhaustion. He woke up early to gather the few items he'd had a maid let out to more comfortably fit him and move to another room, but his movements woke her hand slid down his belly to grip his arousal. "Mon dieu, you do not play fair, my Darling."

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked as she snuggled into him and stroked his hard, silky shaft.

His breath came out in pants and he felt himself thicken under her palm. "I must seek out my own room before the servants awake. I do not wish to dishonor your mother or sully your name."

Her hand slipped from his erection and her finger poked his chest. "That's not how this is going to work." Poke. "I'm not waiting two more weeks to make love to you again." Poke. "I expect you to make love to me once a day – no…several times a day." Poke. "So you can either sleep in this bed with me or sneak in, if your honor allows it." Poke. "Because if you fail to make love to me I will hunt you down, in the skin I was born with, and make love to you regardless who is watching." Poke. "Have I made myself clear?"

He couldn't bring himself to lecture her about honor, especially not when her hand and slid back down to stroke him. No, he wasn't fooling himself. After a night of ecstasy in her arms he knew he'd never be able to go very long without feeling that again. His honor be damned…at least in this situation. "I have no intension of going a day without touching you. So I will come to you at night and perhaps occasional outings – regardless, I _will_ protect your honor."

He made love to her and then they dressed quickly. "You should hide that sheet. It has evidence of your innocence and we will need that on our wedding night. The servants will gossip if they do not see the blood," he pointed out. "And they will most certainly gossip if they see it now."

"A sound strategy, indeed." She hurried towards the door, peeked out, and then opened it so they could step into the hall. "Now that our guests have gone home, I wish to have my room back, so please allow me to show you to your new room."

"Of course, my Darling – lead the way." He placed a hand at her back and followed her down the hall and into a room on the left.

"I, personally, cleaned and aired out this room yesterday. So if you have any complaints, deal with it," she teased.

-BREAK FOUR-

The next week proved to be a series of unfortunate events. A bowl cracked when hot stew was ladled into it, causing the scalding mess to fall onto his lap. Thankfully, he'd been wearing his armor, as he'd recently come in from patrolling the bannorn, and only a small portion of his thighs were burned. The next day, a large rug in Cyril's room caught fire in the wee morning hours. He was able to put it out and push open the paned window to release the smoke with only a minor coughing fit. On the morning of the third day a viper was found in his boot. It had struck out at his hand when he'd picked up the boot, and its fang only barely grazed his skin. On the fourth day, a servant fell ill when they snuck a sip of the Lord's wine before serving it to him. Darling had taken it upon herself to supervise the food prep and distribution after that. It had become more than obvious that this was personal. Someone resented Darling's betrothal to an Orlesian.

Many Fereldens still resented the orlesains' forced occupation. But the first incident with the stew raised her suspicions. It was not meant to kill him, but to send a very different type of message. The only person she could even think of that would enjoy scalding Cyril's genitals was Lord Devon, one of Bann Loren's men. But they had no proof. At least…not until the fifth day into the week.

She and Cyril had come to the barn earlier than usual for a bit of alone time in a very comfortable pile of hay when they found someone slicing the cinch on Luc's saddle.

"I thought you'd come up with a far more clever way to kill me than that," Cyril replied drolly. When the man spun around, he slapped the knife from the assassin's hand and it skittered under one of the wooden saddle stands.

The man crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, Ser, my more elaborate attempts failed rather spectacularly. I might add that you are a hard man to kill. I would have preferred to have taken more exact measures, but it was to appear an accident. So you can imagine the quandary I am in."

Cyril grinned. "Oh, absolutely. I very much commiserate with the difficulty of your situation." He glanced down at his Darling to see the hard set of her jaw and the flash of fury in her eyes. "By the look on my bride's face, it would appear she does not share my sentiment. That being the case, I cannot allow it to continue. Surely, you understand this?"

The man's gaze settled on the beautiful woman who looked like she wanted to claw his eyes out and feed them to him. "It would appear men are often at the mercy of the fairer sex. But what can we do?" He returned his attention to the Lord. "Since she is to remain unharmed, it would appear we are at an impasse."

She'd heard enough of polite small talk and lunged towards the assassin only to have Cyril hold her back in a vice-like grip. "Enough! Who hired you to kill my Cyril?!"

"So full of spirit, my Lady. I can see why you are treasured." He leaned forward with a seductive curl of his lips. "Tell me, Darling, are you a firebrand in bed as well?"

In a blink she was behind Cyril and his fist shot out to connect to the man's leering face. The saddle stand toppled under the weight of the two men. The assassin didn't stand a chance under the onslaught of Cyril's fury. He apparently came to the same conclusion when he pulled a knife. She whipped her small, jeweled dagger from its sheath at her waist and threw it at the hand that meant to stab the Lord. The force of the dagger's throw propelled the man's hand backwards and buried itself, through his palm and into the wood of the saddle stand. The knife slipped from his fingers to fall harmlessly to the ground.

"I yield," the man cried out, trying to block his face from the blows that rained down on it.

She yanked back on Cyril's shoulder. "He's down, my Cyril. Leave up." When he ignored her, she grabbed his chin and turned his head to look at her. "Leave up. Perhaps he's willing to talk now."

Cyril rose and kicked the knife away from the assassin and flexed his hands. "It would be in your best interest to ensure the words that come out of your mouth do not inspire another beating."

He gently rubbed his tender jaw. "No…no. I've had more than enough of your… _tender_ administrations this day. I cannot, however, disclose whom I work for. My death would be certain if I did such. But, I do suggest you bring me to Bann Loren. He will be able to tell you what I cannot. At least, in that case, my death is only probable."

Bann Loren did indeed find out that Lord Devon was behind the assassination attempts, after a…lengthy interrogation. He and the assassin were jailed in the dungeon, until the local Arl or Teyrn pronounced judgement on the Lord. The assassin? Bann Loren had not told them what he planned to do with him, but Darling suspected the Bann intended to use the assassin. She'd heard the stories of Arl Howe's men killing everyone in Highever castle, where the Bann's wife and son had gone to visit friends.

Howe was close friends with Loghain. If the Bann intended to go after either man, she would not stand in the way.


	11. A Thedas Tale Ch11 - Denerim

Dragon Age

A Thedas Tale

Ch 11 – Denerim

They pushed their horses to get to Redcliffe, knowing they would have a few days to rest them while Eamon's men made ready for the journey to Denerim. Once they reached Redcliffe they would send runners to the elves, mages and dwarves on where to take their armies. As they approached Redcliffe castle, they were stunned to see the vast amounts of tents and people camped outside the castle. They moved through a pathway between the camps that led to the palace gates. They saw chasind, avvar and Haven warriors. She inclined her head to Kolgrim when the man raised his sword in the air to her. Her brow furrowed when she saw soldiers bearing Western Hills colors. That was when she felt the presence of her sisters. She moved Shadow closer to Taibor. "My sisters are here, but I cannot feel the rest of my family. I have not felt their deaths, but I do not know where they are."

"I'm sure they are fine, Lor. Likely, they have gone on to their Denerim estate," he said, trying to reassure her. It did not bode well for the Western Hills Arling if its army was here at Redcliffe. The fact that the chasind and avvar were also here meant that it was likely the rest of the south had fallen under the crush of the Blight. The worried look on his wife's face told him she had much the same concern.

They rode through the gate where soldiers greeted them to take their mounts. Normally, that was not something she would be okay with, but right now there was nothing normal about was happening. They dismounted and hurried through the courtyard, up the steps and into the castle. Attendants showed them into the Greathall and closed the doors behind them. She heard a squeal and in but a blink Laura was in her arms. "I'm so glad you're safe! I felt Wilhelm's…death – I'm so sorry we couldn't come!"

Laura pulled back to look at her sister. "There was nothing you could have done. Even with the chasind and avvar joining with us to fight the horde – it was a losing battle. Their numbers were overwhelming. We had to retreat. Our parents decided to come here and join our armies with Eamon's. Once we learned what you'd been up to, our parents, Kyrian and Star went on to Denerim to prepare for the Landsmeet. No doubt, they are rallying the nobles. Seb and I stayed behind with our men. Izot and Azur are leading the Avvar. Azur's brother fell to the horde, he's now chieftan of the clan." She looked around and frowned. "Berchan…"

Too many people she knew had already been lost. Lorianna feared how much worse it would get before they ended the Blight. She forced a smile, squeezed her sister's hand and reached out for Izot's. "He's fine. Berchan is married to a dalish by the name of Lyrica. They are headed to Denerim with the rest of my League of Paladins."

Izot snorted. "Dad's going to love that!" He had a hard enough time accepting her husband, Azur, and he was human.

She winked at Izot. "I think he will…after he gets over the initial shock. She's not what you'd think a typical dalish would be like. And even if he didn't accept her, I doubt he'd do or say anything that would upset mom too much. He's not a fan of being in the dog house."

"In the dog house?" Teagan inquired as he raised his head from the kiss he'd just bestowed on Angelia.

Laura smiled at Teagan. It was easy to forget that not everyone was familiar with her mom's way of speaking. "It means he'd be in mom's disfavor…a cold shoulder and a colder bed."

"Well then, I can see why he would wish to avoid such." Teagan's gaze settled on Alistair. He glanced at Kael and then back to Alistair. There was no doubt who the dark blonde man was. "Alistair! Last time I saw you – you were covered in mud. But I would recognize you anywhere! You look just like your brothers and your father." He held his hand out to the young man.

Alistair shook the hand, heat crawling into his cheeks. He remembered all too well the fit he'd had before leaving Eamon's. "It is good to see you again, Teagan! I suppose I'll have to get used to everyone knowing I'm a royal bastard. I doubt my brother would let me slide back into obscurity."

"He would not," Kael put forth. "You are my brother and you belong at my side... _Prince_ Alistair," he teased. "Unless any more bastards show up, we are the last of the Theirin bloodline."

Alistair wrinkled his nose and sighed in defeat. "You intend to recognize me as heir." It wasn't a question. But it was, indeed, shocking. It was his intent to marry a mage. Was his brother saying he would tolerate a mage heir? "You realize I intend to search for Ann when all this," he said with a wave of his hand, "is finished?"

That was understood. "A prince needs a princess. Ann is a fine woman."

"You might not wish to spread that around until _after_ you are crowned King. Ferelden will not so easily accept a mage so close to the throne," Alistair warned his brother.

"It will be my job to make sure Ferelden remembers those that aided her in her time of need. Elves, dwarves, mages…qunari…Our differences will mean a lot less to our people by the time the Blight has ended."

Eamon studied Kael. The nobles might not like whatever the young king had in mind, but he was exactly what Ferelden needed. A king that would unite its peoples. "An ambitious undertaking, your Highness – one I did not expect to see in my lifetime."

"Surely he jests, husband," Isolde assured Eamon with a pat on his arm.

"You are not so old as all of that," Lorianna admonished him, before shooting a side-long glance at Isolde. Much would need done for change to take place.

Eamon inclined his head to her. "That is most kind of you to say, your Highness. But there are some days that I feel every one of my well-earned years." He looked over at the sound of boots to see Prince Sebastian and Niloh approaching. His lips twitched in a near grin he when noticed the young prince of Starkhaven had eyes only for his young wife, Laura.

Lorianna slid her gaze from Sebastian to her older sister. "Izot…I – I need to know…Gavorn…is he…" her words trailed off.

"Our auger is fine. I've no doubt that he will hunt you down, in time. He has missed…" her gaze darted to Kael briefly, "your talks a great deal."

Kael grunted. No doubt the shaman missed more than just his wife's conversation. He grunted again when he felt his wife's elbow dug into his ribs.

Eamon cleared his throat. "It is good to have you all here once more. And thanks to the efforts you, your family and your Paladins have put forth, we have a far mightier army than I could have anticipated. That being said, we should head to Denerim with all due haste, your Highnesses. We cannot afford to delay any longer. The Wulffs will post the banns for the Landsmeet as soon as they arrive – they may already have done so."

Kael inclined his head to the older man. "I agree. It is past time to pull Ferelden together and face our real enemy. Those with mounts will ride ahead; the bulk of our armies will follow. That will give us time to scout Denerim before we are seen as a major threat to Loghain's power. I have no wish to incite a civil war, so I will not flaunt our armies. I will use the Landsmeet to regain my father's throne."

" _Your_ throne, your Majesty. You are the King of Ferelden now," Eamon reminded him. "Your plan is sound. They cannot deny you the throne once you present your father's missive. However, to keep unrest at a minimum, I suggest we also find evidence of Loghain's betrayals. Once he is no longer seen as a hero, the people will rally behind you."

"Understood. Then we shall depart after we break our fast," Kael replied. He needed a bath a comfortable night's sleep before embarking on another long journey in the saddle.

Later that evening, after said bath and a nap, long tables filled with food adorned the Great Hall. The army leaders and their lieutenants joined the nobles in a hearty dinner feast. Dogs sat patiently, waiting for treats and bones to be thrown their way. Morsels were aplenty, there was no need for the hounds to fight over them.

Lor was able to talk to Gavorn after dinner. It had been good to see him again. As she feared, her talks with him had changed him. He'd incorporated her teachings in with his own beliefs to create something new. But rather than ostracize him, his clan embraced him. Likely due to how closely they'd fought beside the soldiers and Witches of the Hills. Once their eyes were opened, there was no closing them again – no going back, so the clan had moved forward and adapted to their new reality.

"Will the other clans shun your clan?" she asked quietly.

"Mayhap – at first," Gavorn admitted. "But the whispers of truth will spread quick as any ill-gotten rumor. It may not be believed…but it will be known. After the knowing comes curiosity – then understanding and acceptance. I do not regret your teachings, little one. With knowledge comes wisdom. I do not wish to be unknowing." He caught her watching him intently and tilted his head curiously. "What has your attention, little one?"

She blinked at having been caught staring and laughed softly. He was actually ruggedly handsome with his sandy blonde hair and pale blue eyes, without the war paint covering every inch of him. "You were…not what I expected under all that war paint. I do not think I'd have recognized you without our connection." Once she'd gotten close enough to him, she'd been able to sense him, but since they were not as closely bonded as she was with her family, she couldn't sense him until she'd gotten close to him. "You clean up well, large one," she teased with a grin.

His heart fluttered in his chest to know that she found him attractive. Perhaps he should have shown his true self to her sooner. "Will you allow me to kidnap you?" He knew what the answer would be – still, he had to ask. He wanted no other.

Kael strolled forward. He'd looked for his wife the moment he found out she'd been seen talking to the auger. While he trusted in his wife's love and her ability to defend herself, he had been wanting to meet shaman that loved his wife ever since he'd found out about him. "Not so long as I draw breath," he warned the Avvar as he snaked a possessive arm around his wife's waist.

Gavorn looked down to meet Sky's eyes, but with a shake of her head his lips closed and the question remained unasked. She did not wish him to kill her mate. His gaze lifted a bit to meet her mate's bright blue eyes. "I did not expect her answer to change. But still…the asking needed." He could feel the strength and confidence that surrounded his rival. "Protect her as I would and I will respect your claim. If you are weak…I will kidnap her." He lowered his gaze. Pale blue eyes bore into light blue eyes, uncaring if she could read what he felt for her in his eyes. "I would like to resume our talks…when time allows. There is much I have missed since you departed the Hills. For now, I must attend the needs of my clan." He inclined his head to the man and smiled softly at the Sky Witch, before turning on his heel to leave.

"Will I need to watch my back?" he asked dryly.

"No," she scoffed. "Gavorn would never hurt me in that way. And he knows I'd kill him if he took you from me." She slipped her arms around his neck. "He might think he's in love with me, but I don't think he's truly thought about what that would mean. To be with me, he'd have to leave behind everything he ever cared about…his clan…his profession. No one should have to give up who they are for love. He'll find the right woman someday – and he won't have to give up a thing to have her."

"He knows," he said, forcing the words out through his tight throat. "He wouldn't be the first person to give up everything for love. I would give up the throne, with no regrets – if you asked me to. True love is unselfish, it gives without thought and sees no burden in the giving. It is why Cailan remained true to you. When love is pure, there are no regrets." He lifted his hand to caress her cheek. "No lessor love is acceptable once you have known a love like that."

Her husband's words kept coming to mind throughout the rest of the evening as they visited with friends and family. He was right. She'd give up anything to stay with him, even if it meant not being able to see her family again. Whilst she would miss her family, she would not regret making the choice. She still felt guilty about Gavorn, however. She'd never tried to make him love her. She didn't think she'd ever encouraged him. But she knew well the choice of who you love was not always yours to make. Sometimes the heart made its own choices. She truly hoped Gavorn would connect with someone in the same way she had with Kael. She had to hope he did not truly love her, but was in love with the idea of what she was and the knowledge that came with it.

She blinked when she realized someone had asked her a question and threw herself back into the conversation at hand.

-BREAK ONE-

They were back in the saddle by the time it was light enough to see. At least this time, Laura and Seb were riding out with them. Some of the mounted soldiers stayed back with the main bulk of the army to scout and protect them, the rest rode with them. She, Kael, Laura and Seb took the lead. Kadar, Niloh and Liliana fell in behind them and Eamon, Teagan, Alistair and Angelia took up the rear and led the cavalry.

It was more than obvious that Kadar was pleased to see Niloh again. It had been quite some time since he'd seen anyone from his merry band of mercs. While the men remained watchful and diligent in their roles as bodyguards, they did talk and laugh. Eventually, Liliana joined in once she was comfortable with the newcomer.

They made camp at nightfall. While they were moving swiftly, her Paladins would make Denerim at least a week or so before they did, even having to go slow for dwarves' wagon. Their main camp had been closer to Denerim than Redcliffe. From Redcliffe, they'd be going twice as far to reach the capital. At least her Paladins would have already been working towards gaining local noble support by the time they arrived.

A week and a half into their journey, Kael reined Taibor in and rose in his stirrups to get a better look. A cloud of dust on the road ahead was the result of a great many horses heading towards Denerim. He frowned when they drew close enough that he could see Orlesian helmets atop half of their heads. Why were Orlesian soldiers in Ferelden? Two riders left the column and turned in their direction. He settled back into the saddle and reined Taibor to the left. "Lor and I will ride out to meet them." He shook his head at Kadar. "I need you to stay with the others. They are sending two to parlay, we can do no less." He nodded to his wife and they nudged their mounts in the direction of the two riders.

Kadar grumbled under his breath and moved his mount next to Sebastian's. He could tell Laura and Sebastian didn't like this 'plan' any better than he did. "Legion, Taltos – go!" He waved the hounds in the direction of king and queen. He knew the hounds weren't so much as obeying him as they were going because they wanted to, but he at least felt better knowing they would be nearby.

Kael slowed Taibor as they approached the other couple. The man was obviously Orlesian nobility by the looks of his armor and the female was Ferelden, likely nobility as well. "Well met," he said as he pulled his mount to a stop. "I am Kael Theirin and this is my wife Lorianna Wulff-Theirin. It would appear you are heading to Denerim. Doubt me, your arrival would be welcomed. The man who has proclaimed himself regent despises anything Orlesian. I do not wish to see innocent blood shed."

Cyril patted Luc's neck when the stallion pranced to the side. "I am Lord Cyril de Montfort and this is my wife, Lady Darling de Montfort, formerly Lady Darling Mari Telmen of the Winter's Breath bannorn. The Bannorns were attacked by Loghain's men. A Grey Warden by the name of Damon spoke of what happened at Ostagar and about the Blight. I sent a man to Chateau Haine for reinforcements and the rest of my men and I came forthwith. We wish to offer our assistance fighting the Blight. That is where I met my lady, wife – fighting Loghain's men."

Darling nudged her mount closer to get a better look at the man that had greeted them. The man's hair was golden rather than pale blonde, but there was no denying that he looked like King Cailan. King Maric was a busy man. "You said your name was Theirin – then you are the reason the Landsmeet was called. You intend to take your throne from Loghain? We will gladly assist you in that as well. Loghain is mad to start a civil war in the middle of a Blight. A war that cost my father his life and my mother her will to live."

"I am sorry for your loss," Kael told her. "I have a similar loss. Howe's men attacked Cousland Castle under the pretense of friendship. My parents were killed in the battle along with a great many men I grew up with. Loghain is trying to take out any that would oppose his claim on the throne."

The Teyrna of Highever and the king. She tamped down on that train of thought. It didn't matter anymore. None of it mattered except getting Loghain off the throne and fighting the Blight. "You likely know Bann Loren lost his wife in the assault on Highever. I think he means to hire an assassin to go after either Howe or Loghain. It is only a suspicion." She briefly explained what happened with the assassin.

"Thank you for informing us. I do hope this assassin is not a problem. Howe owes me a personal debt…and I intend to collect it myself. As for Loghain…As king, it is my duty to deal with the traitor who killed my brother, Cailan." Kael couldn't stop looking at the woman's face. Something seemed so familiar about her. "Have we met before, my lady? You seem…familiar…but I can't place where I might have seen you."

Darling shook her head. "I know my parents have gone to Orlais with your parents a few times, but I never met any of their children. Though, I quite know what you mean. It does feel as though I've seen you before." She shook her head. "Most perplexing."

Lorianna looked from her husband to Lady de Montfort. Oddly, they looked like they could be related. "Are you of Theirin blood, Lady de Montfort?"

Icy shock slid through Darling's veins. "What? No! Or course not. My parents are Lorint and Darling Telmen. Why would you say that?"

Kael chuckled. "My wife has better eyes than I. I see a resemblance now. No offense was meant. It would not be the first time my…father coerced a noble woman to bear his child." And now that he saw the resemblance, he couldn't unsee it. Was Lady Telmen de Montfort one of Maric's bastards? Did he have another sister? Focus, Kael. Now was not the time to explore that possibility. There would be time enough to investigate after the Blight. Even so, it bothered him at the thought of losing another sibling before he had the chance to know them as such.

Darling raised a hand to rub her forehead. No…no...no…what was said could not be true. Her mother would never do such a thing. Her father's death was killing her mother. No one who loved another that much would…would do such a despicable thing. "I'm sure it is just coincidence. My mother never visited the royal estate without my father and she only went to a few of the Landsmeets over the years. She preferred to stay home with Lorwynn and I. So, no. I am not Maric's bastard."

A harsh breath slipped from Kael's lips. "Nor am I a bastard. Not in the usual sense. I had a father who raised me and loved me as his own. I owe who I am to Bryce Cousland – and until a few months ago, I carried his name. I would suspect, the same could be said for you – were it proven you were Maric's. But whether we are related or not is a matter for another time. We have more pressing concerns. Just know that I would welcome another sibling. Now," he said, clearing his throat. "your men may join ours. The men will make camp on the outskirts of Denerim. I have no desire to tip my hand to Loghain just yet. My wife and I, along with a few other nobles will adjourn to Arl Eamon's estate, since I have little desire to visit the Cousland estate just yet. You and Lady de Montfort are both welcome to join us at the estate, but I ask that your men remain behind with mine for now. Once the Landsmeet is won, then all the armies will join to go after the darkspawn. Right now, I cannot risk fear of an Orlesian invasion turning the tides of the Landsmeet towards Loghain. I hope you understand."

"Mon dieu…We would want that no more than you, your Highness. We will stand behind you. As will the chevaliers my father will be sending as reinforcements. We should not be doomed to suffer the sins of our fathers. We will show Thedas the past does not have to cripple the future. We shall aid you in taking your throne and fighting the Blight as allies," Cyril inclined his head to the man that would be king, "this I so swear." He nudged Luc forward and held out his hand.

Kael clasped forearms with the Orlesian. "I will inform my men of our alliance and we will join with you shortly." He wheeled Taibor around and hurried back towards Eamon, Teagan and his family to explain what happened.

A small smile lit Eamon's face. "You are wise to accept help when it is given. Our war with Orlais is in the past, there is no reason we cannot be allies." The smile faded. "Loghain has become too twisted by hate to see that." He cleared his throat. "Are you sure you want to meet at my estate? I thought we'd be meeting…"

Kael held up his hand. "I'm not ready to visit the Cousland estate," he admitted. "Not after…"

Of course. He should have considered that. It would be hard to visit his family's estate when his parents would not be there to greet him. "I understand, Kael. I'll send a couple of men on to my estate so that staff can prepare for our arrival." Eamon backed his horse away and rode towards his elite guard.

"He means it, you know," Teagan assured the king. "We think no less of you for not wanting to face those memories when you need to remain focused on the regaining the throne and ending the Blight. Your head is where it needs to be and we all need it to remain there. The past can be dealt with later."

He swallowed and it felt like a stone slid down his throat. "Thank you for understanding. Our men will join with the chevaliers and bannorn soldiers and will camp on the outskirts of Denerim while we go on to Eamon's estate. The Orlesians cannot be seen until we've won the Landsmeet. The vote is too critical to risk."

"I agree," Teagan concurred with a nod of his head. He turned to see three men, bent low over their saddles, racing off towards his brother's estate. A few moments later, Eamon rejoined them.

"I've explained things to the men," Eamon told them. "We should move out, before scouts bring word of our arrival to Loghain."

"Well said," Kael agreed and they fell back into formation. When they reached the other small army, Kael and his followers took the lead. The de Montforts, Bann Loren and Bann Franderel fell into line behind Eamon and Teagan, with the soldiers merging behind them.

Traveling together over the next week brought the soldiers closer together. Once darkness fell, you could hear laughter over stories and games – it would seem that men were men no matter where they were from: Orlais, Ferelden, Avvar, Chasind, the Cult of Andraste…Without a reason to fight, they bonded. That gave Kael hope that the same could be said for the humans, mages, dwarves and elves – that they would find that same comradery and balance that his men had. Ferelden needed everyone united as one to defeat the Blight.

They waited for the cover of night to adjourn to Eamon's estate. Come the morning light, Gallagher and Staria had arrived at Eamon's estate to reunite with their children.

Staria hugged Izot, Azur, Laura, Seb and Kael before she pulled Lorianna into her strong embrace. "It has been too long. I felt your arrival last night and your father had to sit on me to keep me coming to see you the moment I felt your arrival." She felt the heat scald her cheeks. Oh, he sat on her alright then he proceeded to make love to her. He'd kept her distracted until she fell into an exhausted slumber. But she rose early, before he could distract her again.

"I'm sorry…we meant to come…"

"Hush it," Staria admonished. "I miss you, but I don't expect you to be tied to my apron strings for the rest of your life." She smiled at her use of words she never would have said in her time. "I'm just glad I got to watch you grow into a magnificent woman. It's more than…" her words trailed away. It was more than any jedi was allowed. Children entered the academy as younglings and families faded into a past barely remembered. She regretted losing Kyrian and her friends, but she had her children.

"I know," she said quietly. She could not imagine the life her mother had told her about. It reminded her a lot of what the Circle did. Took children away from their parents. She was glad no one came and took her away. She and her brother and sister been blessed with the love of a mother and a master. They didn't need any academy to learn what it meant to be a jedi. She pulled back from her mother to give her father a hug. "Where is Berchan and Kyrian? I feel them…I thought they'd have come with you."

Staria shook her head slowly. She'd hoped to have all of her …remaining children in one place. She longed to see them all together again as a family. But there would be time enough for that. "Berchan and his lovely wife Lyrica -" When her husband grunted, she elbowed him in the ribs. "They went with Tayln, Morrigan, Zevran and Syn to investigate some sort of unrest in the Alienage. Kyrian said he had an errand to run with Ser Gilmore and Bethany. He and Starlynn left the Wulff estate this morning along with a woman we were not familiar with just before we left to come here."

"It is obvious that Berchan introduced you both to all of my Paladins. When did they arrive? Do you know where they are lodged?" she asked her mother.

"They arrived a day before we did – nearly two weeks ago. We saw little sense in them paying to stay somewhere when we had plenty of empty rooms. Your Paladins are living with us at the moment. We will help you and Kael in any way that we can. You know that."

"I do." She knew better than to thank her mother for her kindness. "That means we have two weeks left to garner support from the nobles that are coming for the Landsmeet and to hopefully find evidence that will knock Loghain off his hero pedestal."

"Won't Maric's missive be enough to put my son on the throne?" Gallagher inquired.

Kael looked over at his _father_ and grinned. The man had always been a father figure and it shouldn't have surprised him that Gallagher would claim him as a son. "It will be, but so long as many still view Loghain as a hero, the kingdom will remain divided and we would still risk another civil war. But if we can find any incriminating evidence that Loghain was a traitor to the crown or had a hand in any illegal activities then people will not see him as the man he used to be. I would like to make my ascension to the throne as painless as possible."

"You've a good head on your shoulders, son. It is unfortunate about Cailan, but you will do your brother's memory proud. You are the king Ferelden needs right now."

"Thank you…dad. Have you been to see Anora?"

Gallagher frowned. "We tried, but Loghain's men refused to let us into the castle."

Staria saw her children look her way and knew what they were thinking. "I wasn't going to force the matter, especially if it meant forcing a castle full of people. There has to be another way to get to her." It was the most she was willing to say in mixed company.

"It is likely scouts have already informed Loghain of our arrival." Eamon nodded at Gallagher and Staria. "Since you called the Landsmeet, he cannot refuse to speak to you, lest he lose face. He will no choice but to show himself – to oppose us directly. We should ride to the palace – see if we can end this amicably. I doubt it will be so easy, he is mad with power now. We all know that he will strike back at us. The only question that remains is how soon."

The doors of the Greathall were flung open and two guards came rushing in. "The Teyrn has arrived…along with Arl Howe. What would you have us do?"

Eamon squared his shoulders. "Your Highnesses – now is not the time to attack Howe. We cannot do anything that would jeopardize your claim to the throne. We need to gather evidence before we go to battle." He lifted his head to look at his guards. "Show the self-proclaimed regent and his lackies in. They are safe within these walls…for now."

They took a moment to just look at each other as Loghain, Howe, and some woman in armor were escorted into the greathall.

"Loghain. This is…an honor, that the regent would find time to greet me personally," Eamon said in the most controlled voice he was capable of. Despite his words, he was not so calm as he appeared. The man before him had set forth events that devastated his lands and nearly cost him the lives of his family.

Loghain looked around the hall. A great many nobles were here. Nobles that should have been dead already. Two faces he couldn't place, yet both seeming familiar to him. No matter, it would come to him. "It was not you I came to speak to. You have led me a merry chase Arl Wulff. A man so important as to call every Lord in Ferelden away from his estates while a Blight claws at our land."

Darling bristled. "Perhaps, that's something you should have thought of before you instigated a civil war with the bannorns!"

His gaze narrowed on the blonde. She looked familiar. Too familiar, but he could not place her face. "And you are?"

She squared her shoulders. "Bann Darling of the Winter's Breath bannorn."

Something niggled at the back of his mind, but he disregarded it. If she was the Bann then that meant Bann Lorint was dead. "If your father had backed me then he would still be alive to fight the Blight." The man next to her grabbed the blonde and held on tight.

"The Blight is why we're here," Gallagher deep voice rumbled. "With Cailan dead, Ferelden needs a king to lead us against the darkspawn."

Loghain stopped his gaze before it landed on Maric's bastard brat. A brat raised by a man with ties to Orlais. "Ferelden has a strong leader," he said with a slash of his hand. "It's queen. And I lead her armies." He forced his face to reveal nothing. "And who's this? Some stray you picked up along the way? And here I thought it was only royal bastards you wet-nursed, Eamon."

Kael grinned. He knew well that Loghain knew exactly who he was. He'd certainly argued with the man enough at Ostagar. He also knew the man had to know exactly who his father truly was. He clucked his tongue and shook his head. "It is most unfortunate that the self-proclaimed regent has such a…subjective memory. Perhaps, there are other things he has…forgotten."

"Ah, yes…Cailan's little puppy from Ostagar," Loghain sneered. "You were as unmemorable there as you are now." He refused to acknowledge the man's position of Teyrn of Denerim. Cailan had been foolish to recreate the teynir just to keep his own borther's wife nearby.

The grin did not slip, instead Kael laughed softly. "One thing you can depend on, Loghain. You will _never_ forget me." His gaze swung to Rendon Howe. "Nor will you ever take the Teyrnir of Highever from the Couslands."

Rendon quirked a brow, confident in his standing with the regent. "The Couslands are dead. The Teyrnir of Highever belongs to the Howes. And rightfully so."

Kael folded his arms over his chest. "You really should keep better updated on the holdings you try to steal. Your men are dead and no Howe will ever step foot in my home again. You both have already lost and you can't even see it."

Cuathrian stepped forward, angered at the blatant disrespect the regent was being shown. "You are either very bold or very stupid to threaten the Teyrn before witnesses."

Loghain needed to regroup. They were far outnumbered within the castle walls. "Enough, Cuathrian! This is neither the time nor place." He leveled his gaze on Arl Wulff. "I had hoped to talk you down from this rash course, Gallagher...People are frightened. Our king is dead, our land is under siege. We must be united if we are to endure this crisis." He swiveled to look at Eamon. "Your own sister, Queen Rowan, fought tirelessly to see Ferelden restored. Would you see her work destroyed? You defied our nation and weaken our efforts against the Blight with your selfish ambitions for the throne!"

His fists tightened and Kael had to forcibly relax them. " _My_ throne, Loghain. And do not talk of selfish ambitions to me. You were behind the slaughter of my family. You sent a bloodmage to poison Eamon so that he would not send his army to Ostagar. You left my brother to die on the battlefield instead of sending in the bulk of the army when the beacon was lit. Don't even bother telling me you knew we couldn't win and pulled your men. You knew no such thing. You couldn't see the battle well from your position which is why you needed the beacon lit! You belittled the Grey Wardens, calling them traitors to the crown just so people wouldn't listen when they spoke the truth of what happened. You forced a civil war in the bannorn just because they wouldn't bow to your tyranny, rather than trying to curry favor with them. You had the archivist killed so that he couldn't read the missive my father wrote proclaiming me heir to the throne. You may have once been the hero Ferelden needed most, but you are nothing more than a twisted man now. You want us to unite? Then lay down your claim for a throne that is not yours and stand with us. It is what my father wanted."

Loghain squared his shoulders. No. That wasn't right. None of it was. He wasn't the traitor, was he? No. Everything he'd done, he'd done for Ferelden - to keep her out of Orlesian hands. Rowen, his love, wanted Ferelden restored and he would restore her, if he had to do it by himself. "Maric is dead, boy! And I wasn't speaking to you."

"I cannot forgive what you have done, Loghain," Eamon told him. More than conflicted by the man he once saw as a friend.

"Nor can we," Staria Wulff stated coldly. "The Couslands were as family to us. You and Howe -" Her grip tightened on the hilt of her lightsaber. "As my son said, you've already lost."

Eamon ran his hand over his beard. He needed to keep control of the conversation and make sure it didn't turn bloody. The Landsmeet had to decide Loghain's fate – killing the man now would only martyr him and muddy the new king. "Perhaps the maker can forgive all that you have done, but not us. Our people deserve a king of the Theirin bloodline. Kael will be the one to lead us to victory in this Blight."

Loghain fought to control the twitch in his cheek as he stepped forward into Eamon's personal space. "The Emperor of Orlais also thought I could not bring him down. Expect no more mercy than I showed him. There is nothing I would not do for my homeland."

"So it would appear," Sebastian scoffed.

"And you are?" Loghain growled, sending the young man a hard look.

"Sebastian Vael, Prince of Starkhaven and a member of the Wulff family."

He barely kept the sneer off his face. "At least you are not another one of Maric's bastards playing make-believe." Loghain forced himself to take a deep breath. He did not want to start a war with another country. "This is not your fight, Prince Sebastian. You would be wise to return home and see to your own throne."

"It is far _more_ wise of me to stand by my wife's family – especially when my throne isn't going anywhere. My parents and my older siblings can see to Starkhaven's throne." Sebastian cocked a brow, unable to keep the sarcastic remark in check. "Unless…that is…you intend to have my family butchered as well?"

He could feel his cheek twitch again. He wanted to tell this upstart boy where to go, but he could ill afford a war with Starkhaven. Instead, Loghain spun on his heel to put distance between himself and the people that should have been naught more than cold corpses by now.

"I want to speak with Anora." Kael's voice rang out loud through the hall.

"And I want you gone. It would seem we both need to get used to disappointment." Loghain retorted as he left the Greathall.

Eamon frowned as his old friend slipped out of sight. "Well, that was bracing. I didn't expect Loghain to show himself quite so soon. I thought we would have to hunt him down."

Kael released a cleansing breath. "I cannot tell you how hard it was to stay my sword. Howe will not get away with his crimes against my family." He rubbed his forehead. Both of his families were dead because of those two men. "Neither will Loghain. Cailan was my brother."

"You must let the Landsmeet decide Loghain's fate. We need the public to support you – not vilify you." Eamon could empathize with the young king. Loghain deserved death for what he'd done to Ferelden. And if he were as young as the king, he might be less inclined to follow his own advice. "You must also keep in mind that Howe will be well defended. He always seemed like the kind of man who enjoyed kicking stray dogs. I never would have thought Loghain would trust him. Do not get caught with your guard down, your Majesty. Expect more assassination attempts. For now," he said, "talk to the nobles in town. See how many you can sway to our favor. Perhaps, seeing you for themselves – seeing how much your favor Maric and Cailan will be enough to garner their support. And remember, find anything you can to discredit Loghain. Now, I must see that our other guests are settling in."

-BREAK TWO-

After Eamon left, Staria took her daughter, Laura, aside. "There is something I want you to have. Normally, you would have been required to put it together yourself. Not just because it is jedi tradition, but because you must have full knowledge in order to repair it." She snapped the extra lightsaber off her magbelt, placed it on her palm and held it out to her daughter. "When we have time, I will have you disassemble and reassemble it so that you can make any repairs needed."

Laura could only stare at the weapon on her mother's palm. Her own lightsaber. She never truly believed it would be possible. She carefully picked the hilt up and examined it. "Is it powered by lyrium?"

"It is," Staria replied with a nod. "I am surprised I was able to get it to work at all. I might have failed all together had that nice little dwarf named Garrett not helped."

She turned the hilt over in her hand. Something was missing. "How do I turn it on?"

"Ah..." Staria tapped a finger to the side of her head. "This is a dangerous weapon – something no one but a jedi should wield. The trigger switch is inside the hilt. Only a jedi can ignite it." She saw the strained look on her daughter's face and understood the problem. "Take me to your room. I can't believe I did not think of it. You must see how it is put together, know what the switch looks like in order to activate it. I'll dissemble it slowly, then I'll have you put it back together. In doing so, you will learn how it works." She turned to husband and children. "We have something we must do for now, but we will join you shortly in town to continue schmoozing the nobles."

Kael watched them leave and then glanced down at his wife who just nodded. "Time to uh…schmooze then. Let's make a fine show of it and see what else we can learn."

Since it was too crowded by day and they did not wish to stand out, they chose to walk the streets of Denerim, rather than ride. Sebastian and Gallagher stayed behind with their wives; the others followed him out of the estate and into the warmth of the rising sun. He was the Teyrn of Denerim and it had been months since he'd been home. Once the throne was settled, he needed to confer with his wife over who to give the title of Teyrn of Denerim to. Ironically, it wasn't even safe to approach his home. Cailan had shared the Royal Palace with he and Lor, since the Royal Palace used to belong to the Teyrn before the title was disbanded. He wondered if Loghain gave the Teyrnir to Howe too or if he had kept it himself. How could a man become so twisted? How could Loghain ever think that Maric would have approved of any of this?

A bump against his leg brought him out of his thoughts. Legion and Taltos were jumping excitedly around them. "I hope you two have been staying out of trouble." Small yips accompanied happy butt wags. "Fine. You can come with us – but no stealing treats from children." They both tilted their heads and whined. He chuckled. "I know you have far better manners than that." With more happy butt wiggles, they took off smelling trails only they could see.

They'd hit several bars and shops that the local nobility frequented when Alistair came to a full stop. All thoughts of finding more nobles to woo to their side slipped from his mind as he stared at the ramshackle residence.

"Why are we here?" Kadar asked, his senses on high alert since their surroundings began to deteriorate. "No noble would wish to be seen in this part of town. You are more likely to get your throat cut than your purse strings."

Lorianna said not a word, but motioned towards Alistair as comprehension of their location dawned on him.

"That's it. I mean, that's her – or at least that's where she lives," Alistair said as he raised an arm to point at the small shanty.

"Your sister, Goldanna?" Lor asked quietly. She was pretty sure she'd maneuvered them in the right direction. Now, she knew she had been correct.

His heart hammered in his chest and he felt a cold chill all over. After so many years…he might finally meet his sister. What would she be like? Would she have wondered about him as well? "Yes! Yes…that is the right address. She could be inside. Could we…uh…go and see?"

"We?" Kael asked curiously. "You wish us to meet her too?" He had thought his brother would have wanted some time alone with his sister.

"Wait. What? Of course, I want you there to meet her. You're my family too. We'll be one big, happy family." Alistair beamed a smile and then cleared his throat. "Do I look nervous to you?" He cleared his throat again. "Or we can leave, I suppose. We really don't have time to pay a visit…"

Kael clasped an arm around his brother's shoulders, gave him a brief squeeze and then slapped his back. "You're fine, brother. And we'll be there right beside you," he assured him.

"You three go on in. Kadar and I will remain on guard outside," Liliana put forth with a shooing motion towards the sagging front door.

Alistair swallowed a massive ball of nerves and knocked on the door, someone yelled it was open and he once more shook off the uncertainty that almost sent him running. No. He wouldn't do that. Not in front of his brother…his friends. With a self-assuring nod, he opened the door and slipped into the dingy hut. Kael and Lor's solid presence hardening his resolve. He caught sight of a copper-haired woman who was turned away from him. "Hello?"

Goldanna turned around and saw three nicely armored people. Nobility if she knew her togs right. She'd never had such in her home before. Mayhap, she could earn more coin this day. "You have linens to wash? I charge three bits on the bundle; you won't find better." Normally, she'd charge 2 bits, but them there fancy folks looked like they could afford far more than three bits. She'd even use a dab of crystal grace oil to make the linens smell all pretty-like. "And don't trust what that Natalia woman tells you either – she'd foreign and she'll rob you blind."

Alistair glanced uneasily at his brother and then focused on Goldanna. "I'm not here to have any wash done." He swallowed again. "My name's Alistair. I'm – well, this may sound sort of strange…but are you Goldanna? If so, I suppose I'm your brother."

"My what?" His words barely even registered with her. "I'm Goldanna, yes….how do you know my name?" She eyed the others, their togs even fancier than the man addressing her. "What tomfoolery are you folk up to?"

He could imagine his sister would be shocked seeing him just show up. "Look, our mother, she worked as a servant in Redcliffe Castle a long time ago…before she died. Do you know about that? She…"

Reality slammed into Goldanna. "You! I knew it! They said you was dead! They told me the babe was dead along with mother, but I knew they was lying!"

That was certainly not what Alistair had expected to hear. "They told you I was dead? Who? Who told you that?"

"Them's at the castle. I told them the babe was the king's and they said he was dead. Gave me a coin to shut my mouth and sent me on my way. I knew it!" All this time. All this time a lie! She'd nearly died in the street for want of a meal…a place to live. They killed her mother – they stole her brother and what was she left with? Nothing!

Alistair rubbed the back of his heated neck. Why had they lied to her? He needed to talk to Eamon about that. "I'm sorry, I didn't know that. The babe didn't die. I'm him. I'm your brother."

Did he really think - prancing in here in his fancy togs after all these years, that she'd welcome him with open arms? He killed her mother. "For all the good it does me! You killed mother, you did, and I had to scrape by all this time. That coin didn't last long and when I went back, they ran me off! And who in the Maker's name are you?" She asked as she turned her sights on the two fancy dressed nobles. "You just here to rub my face in what should have been mine?"

Kael quirked a brow at her spiteful tone. He couldn't imagine what it must have been like for her when she lost her mother at such a young age. Her life could not have been easy. Still, her attitude rankled him. "What should have been yours?"

"Money…fancy clothes..a better lot. Mother bore the king's brat, she did. We deserved to be taken care of! But he killed her," she said, motioning towards Alistair, "and I was left with less than nothing. All you nobles are the same – selfish wastrels!"

She was right, Kael mused. Had her mother survived, she and her children would have been taken care of – such was custom among nobility – though not guaranteed. Why hadn't she been apprenticed in the castle? Had Eamon viewed her as too much of a threat to keeping Alistair's identity hidden?

He didn't care what Goldanna said to him, but having her bitterness turned on his brother and sister was more than Alistair could bear. "Hey! Don't you talk to them that way! He's my brother - the rightful king of Fereldon and she's the queen!"

The king and queen in her humble abode? Was she supposed to fall to her knees in gratitude? "Oh…I see. A prince and the king and queen. Imagine that. Well, who am I to think poorly of folks so high and mighty compared to me? I don't know you, boy. Your royal father forced himself on my mother and took her away from me. And what do I got to show for it? Nothing. They tricked me good! I should have told everyone! I've got five mouths to feed – and unless you can help with that, I've got less than no use for you."

Was this terrible woman really his sister? Maybe he'd been naive hoping his sister would welcome him into her life, but he hadn't expected her to be like this. "I…I'm sorry. I..I don't know what to say."

Lorianna took a cleansing breath to maintain her calm. Alistair did not deserve to be treated like that, regardless of the woman's right to be bitter. She untied the coin purse from her belt, counted out fifteen gold pieces and flipped them one at a time at the woman's feet. "I agree that you were not treated fairly. But that doesn't give you the right to treat your brother like that. He is not responsible for how you were treated. He wanted to be a part of your life." She kicked a coin with the toe of her boot. "Once the Blight has been dealt with, bring your family to Royal Palace – we will find lodging and work for you there, if you want it. But you _will_ work for your pay and your children will be schooled – that is more than your actions here today deserve." She took Alistair's arm and maneuvered him out the door.

Kael turned to Goldanna. "We are giving you this chance because we agree that you were treated unfairly. Since you have less than no use for my brother, then I do not consider you family even in the broadest sense. But do not think to hurt my brother again. Your welcome at the castle is contingent on your behavior. Consider that, before you open your mouth and spew more venom." He turned his back and stepped back out into the sun-filled slums.

Alistair stopped his pacing when he saw his brother. "Well, that was not what I expected…to put it lightly. This was the family I've been wondering about all my life? That shrew is my sister? I can't believe it. I guess I was expecting her to accept me with no questions. Isn't that what family is supposed to do? I…I feel like a complete idiot."

She took Alistair's gauntleted hand, wishing she could feel the warmth of his skin. "She should not have treated you the way she did. You were not to blame, but I can understand her bitterness. Had her mother lived, it is common practice for nobility to take care of women who birth their…children. While it is not universally practiced, it is the unspoken norm. But your mother died and your sister was disregarded. Regardless what societal norm might be, she's not _entitled_ to anything. No amount of abusive words will change that."

"Lor's right. Rich or poor, many people are not accepting of their station and demand more – no matter who they have to hurt to get it. You are the crown prince of Fereldon – next in line for the throne. You don't need someone like that in your life. You are a strong man, surrounded by people that care about you. We Theirins stand united. Together we will end the Blight and root out the corruption that weakens our country. We will bring the noble back to nobility and ensure all of Ferelden's peoples are treated fairly." He gripped his brother's hand and his wife's, raising them into the air. "We are the Theirins and we will succeed!"

Alistair's shoulders straightened and he drew himself up. His brother truly believed in him. Nobody had ever truly believed in him before…maybe Ann, but that was different. Even Duncan coddled him and kept him out of danger. He repeated Lor's words, 'To the Theirins!'. Afterwards, they both slapped his shoulder pauldrons. He could do this. No…he _would_ do this. The idea of ruling Fereldon didn't seem as daunting as it once had. If fact, he wasn't sure why he'd ever thought of it that way. He wanted to stand by his brother's side and fight for his country's honor. And he could not think of anyone better to train him in his duties. He would watch and he would learn. He would not disappoint his brother. "I believe we have more nobles to woo."

Liliana leaned close to Kadar. "Alistair needed that," she murmured. "Our little prince is growing up."

 **-Unrest at the Alienage-**

(Tayln, Morrigan, Berchan, Lyrica, Fen, Zevran and Syn)

The man stepped out of the shadows and peered down the stone stairs. "Here we have the fearful Paladins and mighty Grey Warden. Such a boon to have so many of you together at one time. The Crows send their regards once again."

"And so they send you…Taliesen." He did not try to hide the sorrow in his voice. Taliesen had once been one of his closest friends. If, indeed, one could truly trust in such a friendship with a Crow. "Or did you volunteer for the job?"

"I volunteered, of course," Taliesen admitted. "When I heard that the great Zevran had gone rogue, I simply had to see it for myself."

"Is that so?" Zevran inquired with a tilt of his head. "Well then – here I am…in the flesh." If Taliesen took the contract, there would be no talking him out of it.

Taliesen took a step towards his old friend. "Look – you can return with me, Zevran. I know why you did this. I don't blame you – it's not too late. Come back. We can make up a story. Anyone can make a mistake."

Zevran glanced down at Syn and smiled softly. There was no choice to be made here. "I'm sorry it has come to this, Taliesen. I will not give up the life that I have now."

"What?" What happened to the Zevran he knew? "You've gone soft!"

"When a man has found a home, he would be unwise to give it up, no?" He hated what was about to happen, but he would hate losing Syn…his friends…his new found self-worth even more. "I'm sorry, old friend…the answer is no. I'm not coming back…and you should have stayed in Antiva."

Over a dozen men came out of hiding, essentially surrounding them. But the six of them and Lyrica's wolf, Fen, proved to be more than a match for twelve Crows. It would appear the Crows learned nothing from his earlier defeat. Zevran slipped his dagger from between his old friend's ribs. "You should have gone home, my friend." He wiped his blade clean on Taliesen's gambeson. His caught Syn's worried look. "And there it is. Taliesen is dead and I am free of the Crows. I believe they will assume that I am dead along with Taliesen. So long as I do not make my presence known to them, they will not seek me out"

"Morrigan," he said as he looked over at the mage. "Garrett told me what you did for him. Will you do for me as you did for him and wiggle your fingers to make this go away?" he asked as he lifted a finger to the marks on his cheek. The mark was a part of him – but it was also a part of the Crows. To keep a low profile, the mark would have to go. And a hair cut would also prove most advantageous right now.

The mage sighed at being put out. Honestly, she could find no fault in his choice. Indeed, it was a wise decision on his part. "if such is your wish." She motioned towards his head. "I would also cut my hair, were I you." She lifted her palm to his cheek and covered the marks. She softly repeated the mantra until he hissed and his cheek became hot to the touch. She pulled her hand away to see two angry red welts, the only signs left of the tattoo he'd once had.

"Thank you, Morrigan," Syn told her. "I, too, owe you a debt of gratitude." But would he come to regret the loss of his tattoo?

"'Tis quite unnecessary," she said with a wave of her hand. "What?" she asked Tayln when he looked at her in surprise.

Tayln grinned and pulled her in for a kiss. "I'm so proud of you right now."

His words brought a foolish smile to her face. Her man was so easily pleased. Still…he was far more adventurous in bed when he was pleased with her. Though, in truth, she had not spoken those word to curry such favor. She was, however, not above benefitting from it. Had she really changed so much? His kisses caused her thoughts to scatter.

"There are more romantic places than an alley full of corpses, yes?" Zevran teased. "Then again…perhaps you know something I don't." He scooped Syn up in his arms for a heated kiss and found he was, indeed, thrilled to be kissing her in a corpse strewn alley. There was something forbidden…and wicked about making love amongst the dead. Tayln was a clever man, indeed.

Berchan shook his head over his companion's randy theatrics. "While I'd like nothing more than to kiss Lyrica senseless, there is a time and place for that and it is not…here. Especially, when we are almost to the alienage."

They resumed their journey through Denerim and hurried across the bridge to the alienage. Few people mingled in between the bridge and the tall, wooden gate that protected the entrance of the alienage. It didn't take long for them to see that something was very wrong here. Some of his people were coughing, weak and lethargic. He could not expect Morrigan to heal them all…no, he needed to find the cause of the illness – see if there was any way to slow or reverse the damage. Was that old man Willik? He shook his head. He could not focus on the ill right now. There would be time enough for that later. He hoped. "There," he said, motioning to a hut. "That was my home."

Morrigan bit her lip. How could a good man come from poverty such as this? Poverty bred thieves and bandits – yet, Tayln was nothing like that. He was honorable and sickeningly compassionate. He was a good, honest man. She did not deserve a man such as he. Perhaps one day she would.

He stepped through the door and grinned when he saw his cousin, Soris, gazing into the fire that warmed the hut. "Soris!" The young, red-haired man spun around in surprise. He must have been lost in thought.

Relief filled Soris' heart. "Cousin? Welcome home! Come in, come in! We assumed you were with the other Wardens at Ostagar. Things..uh.. have been…difficult since you've been gone."

"I've heard. Or at least I've heard mention of some unrest. I came as soon as I could," Tayln informed his cousin.

Soris' gaze slid to the flames before returning to meet Tayln's eyes. "Arl Howe led a purge. Vengeance for Vaughan's death, they say."

The guilt was nearly crippling. Then this…what happened was hist fault. He'd led the attack on Vaughan to retrieve the brides. He'd killed Vaughan. He'd been forced to flee with the Grey Warden and his people paid the price for his choices. "I – I should have stayed…" he shook his head. "How many died because of me?"

Anger sparked in Soris. That his cousin would take the blame. "They didn't die because of you! We both fought to get our brides back. We both stood up for our people. Our choice to free our women was sanctioned by the elders…most of them. You shouldered the blame once. I won't let you shoulder it again." He raked a hand through his shaggy red hair. "But to answer your question, I don't know. After the purge came some sort of pestilence. It's hard to say who was killed by soldiers and who fell to disease."

"My father…"

"I – I don't know. The healers took him into quarantine a few days ago. I'm sorry, cousin."

"What about your…Valora?" he asked, uncertain if he wanted to hear any more, but knowing he had to.

His heart clenched painfully. There had been few good days since Vaughan interrupted their weddings with violence. "My wife went to the hospice over a week ago. They said…they said she had the plague. I didn't believe it. I mean, she was fine! But they took her to quarantine. I haven't seen her since."

This didn't sound good at all. "So, our people are taken into quarantine and never seen again. Where is this quarantine?"

Soris rubbed the back of his neck, his hand fell numbly to his side. If this was a nightmare, he wanted to wake up. He wanted to hold his wife again, find peace in her arms. "It's in a house on the north side of the square. You can't miss it, cousin, there's a huge crowd there now."

"I'll see what I can find out, cousin. I'm sorry I wasn't here," Tayln told him.

"Enough, cousin! None of this is your fault. If you were here, you would probably have been killed during the purge. Those that fought back died. You would have fought back. You left to try to keep us safe. There was nothing more you could have done. You are not to blame. We are not to blame. Nobles are to blame. No one else!" he said in finality as his hand sliced through the air to punctuate his words.

Morrigan gripped Tayln's forearm. "You are too eager to take blame that is not yours. The elf - your cousin, sees more clearly than you. You would be wise to heed his words."

A slow breath slipped from Tayln's lips and he nodded. If he'd stayed, he'd have been executed for killing Vaughan. If he'd come back sooner, he probably would have died in the purge. This was not his life anymore, but he would still help his people. "I will look into what is happening at the quarantine house." He pulled his cousin into a brief hug and slapped his back. "Walk in peace, cousin."

He grunted when he nearly tripped over a large orange tabby sprawled outside the door. He knelt to scratch behind the one-eyed cat's ear. "I see you are still alive…and well fed, Ratso."

Berchan blinked and then burst out in laughter. "That doesn't by chance mean rat chasing fatso, does it?"

Talyn rose and grinned. "I saved him once and he paid me back by keeping our house clear of rats ever since. We all benefit from our friendship." His expression grew troubled when he spotted a notice nailed next to a neighbor's door. He hurried over to read what it said. "Bearing arms is strictly forbidden, is it?" he scoffed with a shake of his head. He would not surrender his steel.

The crowd could be heard before it could be seen standing near the massive, gnarled Vhenadahl tree. One familiar voice rang out louder than all the rest. Shianni was ever one to shout, even when a whisper was all that was needed. He doubted his cousin would ever change.

Shianni crossed her arms over her chest. "If you're really so worried about this plague – go home! Crowding around here is what will make you sick!"

"I've got children at home. I can't keep waiting out here. But Saren…my Saren…" a woman cried out.

"Go home!" Shianni cried out in exasperation. "The best thing you can do for your children is not trust these charlatans!"

An auburn-haired mage stepped forward and held his arms out in a placating motion. "Everyone remain calm. We will help as many as we can today, so long as we can do this in an orderly fashion."

Shianni stamped her foot. "Oh, you're 'helping' us, are you, shem? Like Valendrian and my uncle Cyrion? You helped them, didn't you? Helped them never to be seen again!"

The mage grunted. "We've explained this to you before, girl. More whining will not persuade us to let you into the quarantine to carry plague back out to the Alienage."

"Quit trying to get us all killed, Shianni!" an elf told her. "Some of us have still got things to live for."

Shianni rounded on the man. "Think about it, Marin. If this spell of theirs works, why are half the people they quarantine perfectly healthy?"

Tayln crossed his arms over his chest. "I heard you shouting from my house."

She stilled at the sound of a familiar voice. A voice she never expected to hear again. "I don't believe it," she said as she turned to face her cousin. "Maker's breath, they said all the Grey Wardens died with the king. Everyone thought…Valendrian even held a funeral for you." She shook her head. "Cousin, you have no idea…the things that happened after your wedding…I'm babbling, aren't I?" She flung her arms around him and squeezed her eyes shut to hold the tears at bay. She was not a woman that cried foolish tears. Though, perhaps, her cousin coming back from the dead could be an exception. "I'm so happy to see you, Tayln!"

He breathed in her familiar scent - the scent of home and berryweed roots, used to wash clothing and hair. "It is good to see you too, Shianni. I never thought I'd see my old home again." He pulled back, took her hand and squeezed it briefly. "Much has happened since I left, and I will fill you in on what I can when we have the chance to talk. Right now, tell me what's going on. We've noticed some our people appear sick, but we've also heard about disappearances."

"The sickness came from the Blight. Refugees brought this illness with them. These people," she said, flinging her hand in the direction of the Tevinter mages, "say they're here to help us. Funny thing, the people they 'help' all disappear!"

Marni frowned at Shianni. "That's not true and you know it, Shianni! Both my sisters got protections from the plague, and they're fine!"

"What about your niece, though? And my uncle Cyrion, and Valendrian? Where are they? Where is my cousin Soris' wife? She's been missing a great while now."

"My father and Valendrian were just taken a few days ago, is that true?" Tayln inquired.

"Yes. They said they had the plague. But they didn't, Tayln, they were healthy as warhounds. And now they've got them and won't let anyone see them."

Marin sighed, Shiani was ever pushing. "They're educated men, Shianni, they'd know it if they had the plague. And it's not as if Valendrian would make a show of illness even if he were on his deathbed."

The only way to put an end to the quarreling is to find out who or what was behind the door of the quarantine clinic. "I need to get in there, can you draw our people away?" he asked his cousin.

"Doubtful. They aren't listening to reason right now. If you intend to get in, go around back – won't be anyone but a guard or two in the back alley," Shianni told him.

He nodded to Shianni and motioned for the others to follow. He could feel the eyes of many on them and he could understand their concern. Their group was an unlikely mixture of humans and elves, throw a black wolf in the group and they were certainly going to get noticed. He carefully weaved his way amongst the housing and then moved in the direction of the back alley. They'd have drawn too much suspicion if they'd just headed straight to the back alley.

He came to a stop when he saw an armored elf guarding the rear door. Guess they didn't expect anyone to risk the back alley, not that he blamed them for that thought. "I am surprised to see you with the Tevinters. Why are you helping them, Toren?"

"Because I don't have a choice. They Grey Wardens didn't rescue me from a life of poverty. I have a family to feed…and things have gotten…difficult since the plague broke out," he admitted.

Tayln pursed his lips and nodded. He untied the coin purse at his side and pulled out six gold pieces. "We need to get in there and you need to find another way to support your family." He dropped the coins into Toren's hand. "This will hold you over until you find safer work."

Toren closed his hand over the gold pieces. He'd never even seen this kind of coin before, much less have it as his own. "Thank you, Tayln." He dropped the coins in his pocket and with drew the key to the backdoor and pressed it into the other elf's hand. "Walk in peace, my friend."

They sneaked into the room, ducking low along the tables and leapt out at the guards, who had only just realized something was wrong. The guards fell with little more than a wet gurgle. They quickly looked over every scrap of paper and found nothing that incriminated Loghain, but there was evidence of the back-alley apartments being used in some way. At least they had a lead. They shushed some prisoners they found caged and released them, directing them to go out the back door.

Outside, a small, high-pitched shriek drew his attention. A cat had a large rat by the throat. The cat growled, but released its prey when he scooped up the rat. The rat would not survive its injuries. He drew his dagger over its throat and, making a small puddle of blood at the back door and then made a trail of drops going in the opposite direction Toren had taken. It was the best he could do to alleviate suspicion. He tossed the dead rat back toward the cat that seemed to be staring him down and headed towards the apartments.

Berchan was impressed with Tayln's actions. It was not something he would have thought to do. No, he'd have likely just barreled through the apartments with a war cry on his lips. His training as a warrior superseded the training his mother had given him when he was a child. Kael and Kyrian might be able to pull off a mix of the two, but they'd never served in the king's army. A warrior surged forward, trying to draw attention to himself by charging, shouting or banging his sword on his shield, to protect the mages and infiltrators or even innocent bystanders. Covering the act of someone already gone would not have occurred to him. Though, knowing the man had a family and that if the Tevinters found out he would be hunted down, Tayln's actions did make sense.

Th apartments were far quieter than they should have been. So many people living in one small area, voices should have been heard. Room after room appeared to be empty, some seemed as if frozen in time, dinner on the table, its occupants gone. Others, showed signs of struggle. Broken items, drops of blood – sometimes sprays or puddles of blood, as if they occupants fought off their attackers. Were they killed? Kidnapped? Or in hiding? What happened here.

"This does not bode well, my love." Morrigan murmured quietly. "I am at unease here."

"I did not expect to see this here," Syn admitted. "This is what it looks like when one house attacks another in Orzammar – but where are the survivors?"

Fen growled at a puddle of blood and Tayln knelt down beside him. A few brown feathers lie scattered in the dried blood. "Tevinters," he said as he rose to his feet.

"I agree," Lyrica said as she rubbed Fen's head. "There are not enough feathers to have come from a torn pillow…but a hand scrabbling at a feathered robe…" She shivered. "Falon'Din enasal enaste," she murmured a prayer for the dead. "Do you feel it too?" she asked Morrigan.

"I do – 'tis what uneases me." Her spine stiffened. She was not sure she should have admitted that. The stroke of Tayln's hand down her back relaxed her. That he could have that kind of control over her unnerved her. Still, she knew she affected him too and that was, indeed, some soothing solace.

"What are you talking about?" Berchan asked.

Lyrica looked up at her husband. "Fear…sorrow…death…it surrounds us, pushing down against us like a heavy, wet fur blanket."

Berchan rubbed the back of his neck. That would explain the prickly feeling of the small hairs raising on his arms and the back of his neck. "Let us see what else we can find," he replied gruffly.

Further in, rooms showed more of the same, either frozen in time or obvious signs of a scuffle. Nothing that would help them to figure out what was happening. Only a handful of feathers in dried blood – and that was not much of a clue…not one that would be considered proof of misdeeds. "I had hoped to find more…something…" Tayln's words trailed off when he opened the next door and six Tevinter soldiers stopped what they were doing and drew their weapons. This was more promising. He stepped back to allow the warrior through and he and Zev slid into the room behind him.

He felt magic swirl around him, prickling his skin, but not hurting him in any way. The Tevinters could not say the same. Magic and arrows to exposed flesh maimed them enough to take much of the fight out of them. With no enemy mages to worry about, the fight was decidedly in their favor. "Zev, Syn – rifle through their pockets. See if you can find anything to help us. The rest of you, help me search the room."

There had been six large pears sitting on the table – the Tevinters had been so thoughtful. Each of them had been able to enjoy a sweet snack as they searched the room. In the end, only one piece of evidence had been found. A note wrapped around the key. The note simply stated: 'Bring eight males and six females for the next shipment.' The next shipment. Tevinters. "Slavery…" he mumbled. "Why else would Tevinters need males and females rounded up? Our missing people are being sold into slavery."

"Not for long," Berchan rumbled. "Those Tevinters are going to wish they'd never come to Ferelden!"

Tayln turned the key in his hand. "Let's see if we can find out what this key is for."

Turned out it was for a rear exit through an office in the back. The office was as ramshackle as the rest of the apartment.

"This is the way they went," Berchan said as he motioned to the dried blood trial. "I'll follow your lead, but I'm taking point from here, Tayln. I'm the only one carrying a shield and we don't know what we're going to find."

"Sound logic does not offend me, my friend," Tayln teased as he followed Berchan out the door. A Tevinter soldier came forward to meet them.

"What's this? Another shipment already? We weren't-" he looked over the group of humans and elves and noticed the humans weren't wearing Tevinter armor. "Who are you supposed to be and who told you to bring those elves back here?"

Berchan took a step forward. "We were paid to deliver the elves to you. Look, do you want healthy elves or not?" he growled.

"Well…yes," the guard stammered, "but…they're armed."

"if you don't want them…" Berchan shrugged. "Don't say I didn't give you a chance." He smiled as Syn's arrow sang through the air and sank deep into the guard's eyes. The man's legs wobbled for a moment and then he tilted backwards and fell to the ground in a muffled clank of leather and armor.

A shout went out among the remaining six and another battle ensued. Again, they rifled through the pockets of the dead, searching for orders or evidence.

-BREAK THREE-

Morrigan grabbed Tayln's arm and pulled him to a stop. "Soon your dagger would slip from your hand in that river of blood. A wise man would seek help from a willing mage."

He glanced down at the gash on his bicep and the blood that flowed freely. In truth, he had not noticed the wound. The thrill of the battle had kept the wound from being felt. But she was right, without assistance he would not be able to keep up the fight for long. "Then I shall seek one out posthaste."

Morrigan shoved her fingers down onto the top of his wound to close the gash. She smiled at his hiss of pain and softly chanted the spell to heal his flesh. She knew he was teasing her, but mayhap he would not next time. It bothered her more than she cared to admit to see him hurt and she gave him a small push towards the door at the end of the alley.

"I shall thank you …thoroughly later," he murmured quietly before heading towards the far door.

An armored elven woman with a bow slung over her arm and a couple more Tevinter soldiers were behind that door.

"What is the meaning of this?" the elf demanded. "We were told that there would be no interference from the authorities!" Two plain-faced elves, a dalish, a noble dwarf and noble human, a human mage and was that a…a wolf?

"As if Ferelden would allow an elf to be in charge," Tayln scoffed.

"No," the elf archer said. "But you could be a slave…uh property…a servant to that nobleman. Thus, the authorities. You will regret this. We have been given dispensation to do our business here. The humans here talk a great deal about how wrong slavery is, but isn't it funny how quickly the smell of gold overcomes such ideals?"

"You sicken me," Berchan growled. "Nothing you could ever offer would corrupt my ideals – slaver."

"Then it is a good thing your say matters naught. Do you know how difficult it is to acquire new blood? These slaves will fetch an excellent price in the Imperium, and we are paying handsomely for this opportunity. But enough! We will ensure that you slaughter no more of our people."

"You realize we vastly outnumber you, yes?" Zevran inquired with a lift of his brow.

She glanced at her two guards and straightened her shoulders. The elf was right. How could three stand against seven who had already slaughtered larger units than hers? "So be it. I will let Caladrius deal with you while I fetch the Regent's men. I suggest you leave while you still can."

"Maker's balls," Berchan grumbled. "Loghain was behind this. I knew he was a traitor – but selling people into slavery…we need to find evidence to support her claim."

"I intend to," Tayln responded, his voice heavy with anger. He focused on disarming the traps in the room to calm his rage. He would not let any more of his people fall to these Tevinters. And Loghain had even more to answer for.

"We should not have let them go," Morrigan warned.

Syn looked up at the mage and nodded in agreement. "Normally, I would agree – a dead enemy cannot flank you or send for reinforcements. But if Loghain's men are caught with the Tevinters, that would harm Loghain far more than us. Not all battles are won with bloodshed – they just aren't as fun."

"You say the most romantic things, my dear," Zevran cooed.

Berchan grunted and rolled his eyes as he opened the next door. Four Tevinters were there to greet them. The two warriors yelled their battle cries and charged them. Syn, Lyrica and Morrigan kept their two archers too busy to even pay attention to the big black wolf that darted forward. Fen leapt for one of the archer's throats and bore him to the ground in a clash of bodies. The second archer fell to arrows.

They stepped over the bodies to reach the door and hurried down the stairs. Three Tevinters guarded a door at the end of the hall. Zev knelt to disarm the trap at the bottom of the stairs. Tayln threw his daggers as arrows shot by, driving into the Tevinter's unprotected parts. When the men fell, he retrieved his daggers and wiped them on the men's leather armor.

Berchan stepped on the bodies with a grin and opened the door behind the dead Tevinters. Five Tevinters had armed themselves and were in wait. Two hadn't even had time to put their armor on. Three men to guard barracks. Berchan shook his head. An odd place to put guards. Barracks did not usually lead to anyplace useful. He put his thoughts on hold as he swung his shield to send a man crashing over the side of a table.

They cleaned out the Tevinters and eyed the door. Berchan shrugged. "Storage, maybe?"

They stepped through the door stunned by what they'd found. It was a massive storage area with cages of captured elves, along with Tevinters to guard them.

Caladrius just blinked. For the motley crew of well-armed people to have gotten this far, then his men had been decimated. That did not bode well. They even had a mage. Powerful? Who could say, though she seemed confident enough in her abilities. One was obviously a noble – why would he care? Then again, he had three elves with him – servants, perhaps? "I am Caladrius. And you, I assume, are the Grey Warden?" he asked the elf. The only one wearing Grey Warden armor.

"I am one of three Wardens, standing before you. I am surprised you have heard anything," Tayln admitted.

Caladrius shrugged. "One can hardly get a word out of Regent Loghain besides 'Wardens' these days. It surpassed even 'gold' in popularity. That being said, I will offer you a great deal of gold to forget you saw us."

"We have no interest in blood money – I do not put a price on freedom!" Tayln shouted.

"Now…now. There is no need to raise our voices, is there?" Caladrius crooned. "I have heard that you are trying to erode Loghain's support. It must be a difficult task, yes? Like washing away a mountain. Perhaps you could use some help? Truth be told, there was always a limit to how long we were going to be able to operate here. We've paid for many of Loghain's troops, but once the Landsmeet is done we become…inconvenient. So, here is my offer: One hundred sovereigns from you for a letter with the seal of the Teyrn of Gwaren upon it, implicating him in all of this. Then, we leave a few days earlier than planned, with our profits and remaining slaves, unharmed. Even you must admit this is better than resorting to barbarism, yes?"

Syn raised her bow, her arrow flying true, buried itself deep in a guard's eye. "No deal."

He sighed; Caladrius' gaze drawn to the dwarf he'd overlooked before. "I guess we will have to settle things the hard way. My apologies."

Berchan grinned. The mage hadn't given the dwarf the slightest bit of attention. Until now. "It's always the little ones you have to worry about," he teased as the eight Tevinter guards attacked. "You should have taken the mage out first, though."

"He looked bright enough to shield himself, but not bright enough to shield his men," she retorted as she slid down the banister railing to the floor below.

"I hope you did not get any splinters in unfortunate places," Zevran teased.

"I'm sure you will kiss any injuries better," she said with a laugh as she shot another arrow.

Zevran grinned as he knocked a shield aside, spun his dagger and drove it between the gaps of the guard's armor. The gurgling sound the man made was music to his ears. "I love the way you think, my dear."

Tayln and Berchan focused on the mage, while the others focused on the ten remaining guards. The main goal was to keep the mage focused on keeping himself alive so that he did not assist his guards or go after Morrigan.

The mage kept himself well-shielded. And even had energy to throw irritating spells at them, but he would not be able to keep it up. Then again, neither could Morrigan who rotated between spelling shields on them and offensive spells on the enemy. Tayln blinked. That wasn't Morrigan's healing spell. This one was gentler, like a cool liquid surrounding him. Lyrica. He grinned as he slashed out against the mage's shield. It was good to see that she was accepting that side of herself.

He grunted when he was hurled backwards by an invisible force to land hard on his ass. He lunged to his feet and charged back into the fray. He pushed back the strange sorrow and fear that tried to bubble up from inside him and focused on the fury he felt seeing his father in a slave pen.

Eventually, the rest of his friends joined him and Berchan to attack the mage. The strange bubble of fear popped as if it had never been there and the mage dropped down to his knees.

No! it couldn't end like this! Beaten by dog lords and their pets. "Enough! Enough!" Caladrius cried out. "It seems the reputation of Grey Wardens is an accurate one. I surrender."

"Perhaps you should be left to the tender mercy of those whom you enslaved?" Tayln bit out. This man was vile, but he was not the man that caused this to happen.

No…he would not die by the hand of any slave. "Wait! Hear me out, kind sir! Were I to…use the life force of the remaining slaves here, I could…augment your physical health a great deal! Allow me to leave this place alive and I would be more than happy to do this little service for you."

His hands curled into fists. He would not tell the mage these people are his family and friends. He would not put them at risk in such a way. "Do you think we carved our way through your men for my selfish ambitions? I came here to save these people not ensure their deaths!"

Caladrius looked up at the elf and it galled him to have to do that. "Then…I don't suppose you would consider just…uh… letting me go?"

Tayln blinked when the mage toppled over, ah arrow protruding from his eye. He looked over at Syn and quirked a brow.

The dwarf shrugged. "I got tired of listening to him."

Zevran grinned at the petite, beautiful woman that had captured his heart. "Is there any wonder that I love you so much?"

"Later, you two…open the slave pens and free the elves," Berchan barked.

Zevran chuckled. "I wouldn't dream of making them wait. Freedom before pleasure…unless you're into that sort of thing. Which…I could be," he teased as he picked the lock on one of the pens.

Tayln picked the lock on the pen that held his father.

Cyrion had been elated when he first saw his son step through the door. Then, worry choked him when the battle took place. Now, there was simply an aching relief. "My son…" he swallowed hard. "I didn't think I'd see you again. When they said all the Grey Wardens died at Ostagar, I prayed they were wrong. Are you all right? What are you even doing here? Not that I'm not thrilled to see you standing there."

He grasped his father's forearm and then pulled him in for a brief hug. "Most of us were killed at Ostagar. I will explain what happened there later. As to why we are here now, we came for the Landsmeet – but we heard troubling things about the Alienage. When I found out you and the others went missing, I had to do whatever it took to find you."

The older elf grinned. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. You're so much like your mother." He looked around and shuddered. "Come to the house. We can talk there…and there is something I should give you."

He pilfered the documents implicating Loghain from the dead mage's robes and led the others from the apartments. They ran into Shianni on the way back through the square. He chuckled when she pulled him into a rib-cracking hug. Or at least it would have been if he'd not had his armor on. "Careful, lest my armor crack your ribs."

"It would be worth it," Shianni beamed. "Tayln, you're amazing. Which, I shouldn't say to your face, because it'll go to your head. But it's true. What you and your friends did for us…." she cleared her throat. "Are you sticking around for a while? You're staying for dinner, aren't you? You'd better. I'll weasel a bottle or two of wine from Alarith and we can catch up. Your friends are welcome too, of course." She might not like shems, but those two had stood by her cousin and earned her respect.

"Tell me you are not cooking, Shianni?" Tayln teased.

She pursed her lips and grinned. "For that, I should make you my special Denerim-rabbit stew."

He choked and then bubbled over with laughter. "Not feeling up to eating rats tonight, dear cousin."

"Really?" Shiannia said with a belabored sigh. "You've been away too long if 'rabbits of the city' no longer sound delicious." A small giggle slipped past her lips and she gave up the charade of trying to keep a straight face.

"I promise you. As soon as we've set a new king's butt on the throne and defeated the Blight, I and…someone very special to me - if I can get her to agree to come, will join you and father for dinner."

"Ohhh…You are blushing, cousin! You're in love!" Shianni's grin spread from ear to ear. "I can't wait to meet her. You must tell me all about her…how you met…I'm so happy for you. I know you were never happy with the arranged marriage. But now…" she cleared her throat. "I'm babbling again. Tell us everything when you bring her to dinner. We'll get drunk and celebrate. Promise?"

Tayln held up his hands in surrender. "I promise, Shianni. I'll return as soon as I can." He hurried away before she could say anything else. He loved his cousin, even if she could be long-winded. He stepped back into his old home. Soris patted his back as he weaved his way through Tayln's friends and out the door.

"Let me get a good look at you! Why you – you've changed so much." His son's muscles were larger and more defined. He had a healthy glow to him. "Do the Wardens work you too hard? Not a bit of paddling left on you." It was apparent that his son had left boy and came back a man.

Tayln rubbed his still aching backside. "Yes, and the falls hurt more. I could stand a bit more padding." He grinned. "I've been training hard since I left. I've never felt better. Despite the Blight and the battles, I'm happy, father. I like what I'm doing and who I'm doing it with." He frowned at Berchan when the big man choked up.

Cyrion knelt over a trunk, opened it and withdrew the dagger. He unwound the protective cloth and rose to present it to his son. "I had this put away for…well, for a long time. I'd meant to give it to you as a wedding gift – but with everything that happened…" he held out the dagger on his palms. "You're mother's dagger. She called it 'Fang'. She would have wanted you to have it. I know you'll do great things. You already do. No father could be as proud of his son as I am of you, Tayln."

He knew his cheeks had to be red. He took the dagger from his father's hand and slid it under his belt. "Thank you, father. I promised Shianni I'd return after the rightful king has regained his throne and the Blight is defeated. We'll make up for lost time then. I'll tell you everything that I can."

"Wait, son. What rightful king are you talking about?"

Shianni stepped through the door and leaned against the wall, catching her uncle's words. King? She crossed her arms over her chest and waited. Staying quiet was one of the harder things she'd had to do.

"A noble with Theirin blood. His name is Kael Theirin. And he's not what you think. I've met a great deal of humans that aren't what we expect them to be. But Loghain is doing everything he can to destroy him and those that support him. Kael is the king Ferelden needs and I intend to help him take the throne."

The older elf frowned. "Be careful, son. Once this 'king' had the throne, he won't need you anymore."

Tayln shook his head. "Kael doesn't 'need' me now. He will take the throne with or without my help. He and the queen like me. He's not afraid to have elves for friends. They are not your typical nobles. Neither of them are. Not all humans are the same, father. Berchan is a noble and he married Lyrica," he said with a motion towards the large human and the dalish elf. Their wedding was sanctioned by the dalish, if you can believe. I'm in love with a human." He raised his hand to halt his father's tongue. "I know things won't be easy, but she's a strong woman that doesn't tend to give a damn what others think."

Morrigan chuckled and slipped her arm through Tayln's. "You know me so well, my love."

Shianni covered her mouth before she could squeal with delight and endless questions.

Tayln's lips spread into a slow grin. He'd been careful not to mention her name or put her on the spot. He shouldn't have been surprised that she'd claim him in front of others, but he was, despite his words he'd just spoken to his father. She tended not to be a demonstrative woman…er…much of the time. Then again…she was getting oh so much better. He shook his head, bemused.

Cyrion looked up at the dark-haired, amber-eyed mage. "This is the human you have given your heart to?" His son slipped an arm around the human's waste. "I can see that it is. Are you willing to bind yourself to an elf?"

Morrigan's back stiffened in indignation. "I am _not_ a demon to be bound to anyone! Why-"

"He means marriage, Morrigan," Tayln told her, biting his cheek to keep from grinning over the misunderstanding.

"Then why did he simply not say such?" she groused, even as heat stole into her cheeks.

She was so beautiful when her skin was flushed with color. He usually only saw it when they were making love, so seldom did she become embarrassed. "Father, this is Morrigan – Morrigan this is my father, Cyrion Tabris. Father, we have been far too busy dealing with the present to talk much of the future. She is the keeper of my heart. I would take her to wife, if she'd have me, of course. But we have not had time to discuss such matters." He had not intended to push her on their future. Leave it to his father to put her on the spot.

Cyrion's gaze swept from the human to his son and shook his head. "Maybe it is better to leave things as they are. You could play her servant if you had to. It would take more courage than most are capable of to handle the ridicule and danger inherent in a human wedding an elf. Yes…yes, it is better this way. There is no need for either of you to try to face the anger of human and elf alike. Complying is safer than change."

Tayln's eyes narrowed on his father in warning. What was the old man up to? His father couldn't possibly _want_ him to marry a human. Humans killed his wife, hurt Angelia, sold their people into slavery. His father's challenging words made no sense. Unless...his father respected Morrigan for helping to free their people from slavers…or maybe he just wanted his son to marry someone he loved. His former betrothed had already wed another.

She drew her shoulders back and took a step forward. "No one will tell me what I can or cannot do. No one will tell me who I am _allowed_ to spend my life with! I will wed Tayln, whether you accept it or no!"

Cyrion nodded grimly and bit back a smile. "Soris," he said to his nephew that just walked in. "Get Mother Lucinda and let her know of the wedding. She'll handle things with the chantry. Shianni take Morrigan to the women folk to make ready for the wedding."

The bouncing, bubbly elf took Morrigan's arm and led her away. "What are you doing? Where are you taking me?" she asked as she was led out the door behind Soris.

Berchan burst out laughing. "That was devious of you Mr. Tabris! And so much fun to watch."

The older elf held up his hand. While he appreciated the respect from the human nobleman, it wasn't necessary. "Call me Cyrion, please. You helped save my people, there is no need for lingering formality. Now, if you two ladies will step outside and join the other women, we will get my son prepared for his wedding." When the two women left, he looked at the others. "After what happened with my son's first wedding ceremony, we no longer give notice of pending marriages. Mother Lucinda has helped us wed privately ever since."

"Father, you know we have little time to spare…"

"I also know that I may not see my son again – or I may not see him for years. Your life may be a difficult one, but I want to see you wed. Not many get the chance to marry for love. Your wedding clothes are in your trunk."

After he was dressed in clothing he never thought he'd wear again, he couldn't stop a small shiver from racing down his spine. Would wearing the same clothes he'd worn at his first wedding ruin this one? No. That was superstitious nonsense. This wedding was nothing like -

Cyrion tapped his son's shoulder, took his hand and turned it palm up. He settled a ring onto his son's palm. "It is your mother's wedding ring. It should...uh…fit on your bride's small finger," he said as he wiggled his pinkie finger.

He was trembling and pacing by the time word reached them that they'd finished tailoring a dress for Morrigan. Perhaps, a small part of him was worried that his bride would say or do something to offend his people. She didn't like being pawed at and the women of the Alienage were good at pawing and fawning and cooing.

His nerves didn't settle until he saw her standing up on the wooden platform next to Mother Lucinda and two sisters in a dress that swirled around her and a golden flower in her hair.

The ceremony was short, so as not to draw any undue attention, but memorable. Tayln doubted anyone in the village would ever forget the day one of their own wed a shem in the middle of their village. After the wedding, Morrigan wasted no time removing the dress and getting back into the armor Lorianna had given her to wear. Afterall, she did not wish to soil the beautiful dress the women had worked so hard on. The celebration could still be heard after they left towards nightfall to return to the Wulff Estate.

Tayln never would have thought by returning home that he'd leave with a wife _and_ evidence of Loghain's treachery.

 **-Rescuing Anora-**

(Bethany, ser Gilmore, Kyrian and Starlynn)

Kyrian eyed the uniforms Erlina had supplied them with. "Are you sure this is going to work?" He now wished he'd have told his parents what he was up to incase anything happened to him. No, his mother and sisters would know if he was in trouble or in pain. He'd made the right choice. His parents would have insisted he bring guards. It would be hard enough with the four of them getting through the estate. Any more, and they would be pushing their luck.

"It is the only way, my Lord," Erlina insisted. "If we wait…if we seek aid, then Howe would likely kill her and hide all evidence that she was even there." She turned to look back at the servant's entrance door. "I'll go distract the guards."

"Why?" Gilmore asked. "Isn't that what these uniforms are for?"

"Those two," Erlina replied with a motion of her head towards the guards, "know who is allowed to come and go. They will not be fooled. But the uniforms should work on most of guards within. Now, we cannot wait any longer, Ser, my Lord. Please wait in the bushes. I will lure the guards into the courtyard."

Garrett ran up to the small group. "I tried to catch up – but my legs only move so fast."

Well this was unexpected. "I wasn't expecting you?" Kyrian replied with a questioning tilt of his head.

"What can I say? I like to do the unexpected. Look, I know she's close to Kael and Lor and I want to do my part to help," Garret told them.

Erlina frowned down at the handsome dwarf. "I don't have any guard armor for you…and we-"

The dwarf held up his hand. "I can help with the distraction."

"What do you mean? We can't afford to waste any more time. The queen is in danger!" the elf cried out.

Garrett pulled a bulging skin from his belt and poured the contents all over his head and chest.

Gilmore waved his hand in front of his face. "Now you smell like Oghren . I doubt you'd play the drunk as well as him though."

"I've more in mind than just acting drunk." He ran over to the garden and dove into the soft dirt, rolling around until he was well covered in mud, a few twigs standing out for added effect. He walked back over to the group and held his arms out wide. "I might get mistaken for a darkspawn in the shadows. Where do you want me?"

Oh, this was working out better than she'd hoped. "On the far side of the fountain," Erlina told him. She made a shooing motion to the four humans and hurried away.

"Ooh…intrigue…and we are not even in Orlais," Starlynn murmured as she slipped behind the bushes and crouched down.

"What's Orlais like?" Bethany whispered.

Starlynn grinned. "It's like a pompous, festival glamour over a back-alley cesspool."

Bethany's brows rose in surprise. She'd heard so many wild tales and thought Orlais was dashing and romantic with a hint of intrigue. But now she wasn't so sure if she wanted to go.

"Look," Kyrian motioning towards the elf who was running up to the guards.

"Oh! You must come! I saw something!" She raised her hand to her chest trying to catch her breath. "By the fountain! I think it was a darkspawn!"

"Darkspawn?" the guard scoffed.

Her shaky hand rose to her mouth. "They will drag us all underground to be eaten!" she wailed.

The guard named Ernesto turned towards his partner. "Should be call for help?"

Bertal could not believe the words that he'd just heard. "Did you fall off a cart of stupid? Call for help? So they can see us act like scared little girls because of some knife-eared wench?"

She took a step back and then another, her body shaking. "They will eat us all alive! Please! Get help!"

Ernesto sighed and looked over at Bert. "If there is something out there and we don't' sound the alarm, we'll look worse than scared."

Bertal rolled his eyes. He didn't like leaving his post for a hysterical elf. But if something _was_ wrong… "Andraste's holy knickers! Fine! We'll check the courtyard, if it'll keep you from wetting yourself. But there's nothing there."

"Thank you! Oh! It was over here!" She motioned with her hand for them to follow her. "Quickly!" She let them towards the fountain and saw something dark make a jerky movement. "Did you see that? Look over there!"

Bertal nodded to Ernesto. "Stay out of the way, wench. We'll take a closer look."

She smiled when their backs were towards her and turned and ran back to the servant's entrance. She, at least, wouldn't draw any undue attention. She slipped through the door and caught up with the rescue party. "They are chasing down Garrett. Forget about them. You must be careful now. The servants, they will not look closely at anyone in uniform. All guards are alike to a cook, no? But you should not draw attention to yourselves. Most of the guards are new. They will not know you for a stranger at a glance. It is best to keep your distance from them and try to blend in."

"Where's Anora?" Kyrian inquired.

"She's in a guest room off the main hall." Erlina motioned in the direction they would need to go.

"Where's Rendon Howe?" Starlynn needed to find him. He had to pay for what he'd done to her family.

"I don't know, but he will be well guarded. I beg you, do not risk the queen's life over your revenge." Erlina crossed her arms over her chest. "I know what she is willing to give up for you. What are you willing to give up for her?"

Starlynn squared her shoulders. "I would never risk Anora's life."

The elf relaxed. "I did not mean to doubt you, my Lady. My worry is great. May Andraste guide us."

The exited the hall into the kitchen, where they learned the staff thought she was just under the weather and chose to stay in her room. It was obvious no one that would talk was allowed near her. And servants were good at both talking and knowing things.

They continued through dining hall and out the far end.

"For all we know, it's not mutton. Howe's too cheap to buy it. Cook's probably roasting the elves that broke in here," the guard teased his friend.

"You realize that doesn't help, right? Ugh…I'll never drink that much again…" groaned the guard's friend.

Their banter faded from hearing when they turned the corner into another hall and took a left through the only door available to them. This appeared to be an easy room, guards were relaxing – one group playing cards. As they slipped out of the room, they heard the men discussing what happened at Redcliffe. A frightened child trying to save his father from Loghain's poison. Loghain had much to answer for. Next, were the kennels and barracks. With luck, they'd be able to rescue Anora without having to bring every guard in the estate down on their heads.

Erlina sped up. "We are close – this way."

They let the elf take the lead, well, _let_ might be a strong word, but they followed her around the corner and to a door that glowed with a magical shield.

"We are here, my Lady," Erlina told the door.

"Who are 'we', Erlina?" Anora asked briskly. She was sorely tired of being locked in this room waiting for Howe to kill her.

"It is I, Starlynn Cousland, my husband Kyrian Wulff, the Grey Warden Ser Gilmore and Bethany Hawke,"

"Thank the Maker!" Erlina came through for her. The Couslands and the Wulffs were like family to her. She grimaced at the thought. Better than family, if her father was okay with Howe locking her away. "I would greet you properly, but I'm afraid we've had …a setback."

Starlynn glanced at Bethany. "Magic. So, locking you up wasn't good enough."

"Apparently not. And Lor failed to teach me how to escape from magically sealed doors. We shall have a talk about that when I get out," she teased.

Kyrian chucked. It would appear Anora was taking everything rather well. "That was very remiss of my sister. I shall blister her ears most soundly on your behalf, Anora."

Anora's lips twitched. As if anyone could have prepared her for this. "See that you do. But until then, find the mage who cast the spell. He'll most likely be at Howe's side."

A grin spread over Starlynn's lips. "Then that is where we need to be."

"Starlynn? Kyrian? Don't do anything stupid. If anything happened to either of you…" Anora swallowed hard. She'd never forgive herself.

"We'll be fine," Kyrian assured her and then turned to look at the two mages. "Can either of you break this spell?"

"No – we dare not even try," Bethany told him. "It is a complex spell and if we counter it with the wrong spell…" she shook her head. "I'd prefer to leave the estate in one piece – less loss of life that way."

"Right, then. Kill the mage – kill the spell. Much better idea," Gilmore agreed. And Howe…he wanted to end Howe as much as Starlynn and Kyrian did. He lost a lot of friends that night and his best friend lost his parents.

Erlina tore her eyes off the door and looked up into Kyrian's blue eyes. "Teyrn Howe will probably be in his rooms." She lifted her arm and pointed. "They're at the end of the hall, the last door on the left."

Teyrn Howe? Kyrian flinched, his hands curling into fists, but he kept his tone mild. His wife's red face told him just how she had taken those words. "Rendon Howe has not, nor has he ever been, a Teyrn. He can lie to himself all he wants, but Anora never would have given my wife's family's Teyrnir over to him."

"He's right, Erlina – I did not," Anora cut in quickly. "And soon…he will not even be an Arl. Though I suppose, he will not be among the living soon either. My prayers are with you. All of you."

He placed a hand at his wife's back and gently prodded her forward. Though, understandable, exploding in righteous fury on a servant that had to call Howe whatever he wanted her to call him would help no one. "We will find him and he will pay. This I promise you," he murmured softly.

"I will make him pay – he's mine, Kyrian." Her words were little more than a seething growl.

"He's ours, Star…we're a team. Never forget that I shall always have your back, my love. It is, however, your right to confront the traitorous snake."

"Oily ass-weasel," she grumbled.

"Truer words, my Lady," Gilmore could not agree more. He could also acknowledge it was Starlynn's right to make the killing blow, for Howe had wronged her the most. But he would still get to watch the man fall. It could never make up for what the man had done – but it would start the healing.

The door on the left led to the Arl's sitting room. Kyrian wondered who would be the next Arl of Denerim. Whomever it was had to be better than the dead Arl and the man who stole the Arling. The sitting room led to a very large bedroom. Still, no Howe. Would it have been too much to hope that he was found asleep in bed? No, better this way. He wanted the man to see his death coming. He wanted to see the terror of that knowledge in his eyes. "Look through any chests or cabinets – see if we can find any incriminating evidence."

They searched quickly and quietly. It was his wife that found something interesting.

"It would appear the scroll is Grey Warden in nature." Starlynn handed the scroll over to Ser Glimore. "Since you are the only Grey Warden here, they belong in your hands."

He inclined his head. "Thank you, my Lady. I shall protect them with my life," he tied the scroll pouch to his belt. "Perhaps, we will find our weasel through that door."

" _Ass_ -weasel," Starlynn corrected.

He laughed softly and bowed. "As you say, my Lady. I stand corrected. _Ass_ -weasel, then."

Starlynn winked at Bethany and patted Gilmore's armored forearm. "Much better, Gilmore -you are learning."

"Oh, he has learned a great many things," Bethany said softly.

If it wasn't for the mischievous gleam in the other mage's eyes, Starlynn might have been fooled by the innocent expression on her face. Gilmore's face, however, was so red it told a far different tale. "It would appear that you are embarrassing your husband, Beth."

Bethany shrugged, but her lips widened. "Perhaps, he will put me in my _proper_ place tonight."

"The kitchen?" Starlynn teased.

Bethany giggled. "Well…the table has merit, provided the servants are all abed."

Gilmore choked, unable to take any more of their banter. "Ladies…please. Shall we focus on the task at hand. Howe and…the…mage…" his voice trailed off when another voice interrupted his.

The guard turned to see who entered the door. "Who goes there?" In a blink, he was yanked back against the cold bite of the cell door. His feet scrabbled for purchase on the stones until a muscled arm cut off his air supply. His hands rose to pull the arm away.

Kyrian watched the display. "You know, he should really go for the dirk at his side. But they rarely do the intelligent thing," he commented softly, motioning towards the struggling guard. "If he'd stab the prisoner, he'd likely survive."

"True," Gilmore agreed. "I suppose the fear of imminent death could cause one to lose all sense of reason."

They watched as another hand reached through the bars and the guard's neck was snapped with a grotesque cracking noise.

Bethany shuddered. "I do hate the sound of bones breaking."

They continued to watch the show as a hand slipped through the lower bars to remove a ring of keys from the guard's belt. The door clicked and the guard was pulled through. "This has been entertaining. I wonder who the prisoner turns out to be," Starlynn quipped. She heard the sound of swords sliding from their scabbards. "Surely, that won't be necessary. If we do not attack him, why would the prisoner attack us?"

"Because of what we are wearing, my love. We look as any other of Howe's soldiers. Kindly remember that," Gilmore chided.

They heard the rattle of armor. It was obvious the prisoner was stripping the guard for his armor.

Riordan fastened the last piece of armor and stepped through the door. "I thank you for creating such distraction, stranger. I have been waiting for days for the opportunity. Do you think you could -" He could feel the slightest bit of taint in one of the four before him. "You…you are a Grey Warden?"

Gilmore blinked in surprise. How could anyone know that? "That would be treasonous in Fereldon right now. I do not think any-"

Riordan held up his hand. "You have a friend in me, fellow Warden," he said with a slight bow. "I'm Riordan, senior Warden of Jader, but born and bred in Highever and glad to be home. Mostly…" he amended as he looked around the prison.

"Does that mean there are more of you here?" Kyrian asked. If so, then this was something Kael needed to know right away.

He eyed the young man with the noble bearing. "We had two hundred Wardens and two dozen divisions of cavalry. The first we heard of Loghain's edict was when everyone was turned back at the border. That was when the rumor reached us that Wardens were being blamed for the massacre at Ostagar. We finally decided it was safest to send someone alone, to learn how best to fight the Blight and the regime simultaneously. As a native Ferelden, I volunteered to make the crossing."

One man would have had a better chance sneaking through, Kyrian mused, so what happened? "How did Howe capture you?"

Riordan's lips tightened in anger. "With an offer of hospitality and a poisoned chalice. I was fool enough to think Loghain didn't yet know who I was."

Gilmore pulled out the scroll. "I assume this is yours, then?" He held the Grey Warden scroll out to the senior Warden.

"Yes. These are my records. The names of the dead I could recognize at Ostagar and what I could find of the Warden's recruitment records. Copies of the Joining ritual I rescued from our Denerim vault. Those should never be seen by outside eyes, but I trust in their encryption.

"Does that mean you can induct new Wardens? There are only a handful of us in Ferelden," Gilmore explained.

Riordan was stunned by that bit of news. "A handful? We had not expected that more than one or two survived Ostagar."

"Barely…" Gilmore grumbled. "But we are new recruits. Talented in the way of fighting, but we know little about being a Grey Warden – there simply wasn't any time. Alistair is the senior Warden - or was until you showed up."

"Alistair – then he is alive. That is good news. I was at his Joining. It will be good to see him again. As for the Joining Ritual…would that I could, for Ferelden sorely needs them." He eyed the others with the Grey Warden.

Gilmore could see the man wanted to say more. "I trust them with my life as a man and as a Grey Warden. This is my wife, Bethany. My brother at arms, Kyrian Wulff and his wife Starlynn Cousland-Wulff. Starlynn is sister to the rightful King of Ferelden, Kael Bryce Theirin. We stand with him and his wife, Lorianna Wulff, to unite Ferelden under his banner and to defeat the Blight. They will hopefully be arriving to Denerim soon, for the Landsmeet. Please, speak freely. We are among friends, Riordan."

Kyrina grinned. He could feel his sister and Kael nearby. In fact, he could feel the rest of his surviving family nearby. "You should know, Kael and Lor have recently arrived with their army. They are the hope Ferelden needs. I have little doubt they are getting ready for the Landsmeet, as we speak. They will stand with the Grey Wardens."

A harsh breath slipped from Riordan's lips. Then the fall of Loghain was imminent. From what he'd heard the Landsmeet was scheduled to convene in less than a fortnight. That would certainly explain why the Landsmeet was called. "Normally, an outsider would never be privy to this, but there are things you must understand. For the Joining to work, the recruit needs not only fresh darkspawn blood, but a drop of blood preserved from an archdemon. Ferelden's supply should have been in the vault, but it was gone. I can only imagine Loghian either confiscated it or destroyed it. As you know, the Joining's chance of success is…not guaranteed. Loghain has done far worse to the Wardens than cut us off from recruiting. But perhaps that will change when Loghian is removed from the throne."

"It will," Starlynn's words were laced with finality. "My brother does not share Loghain's fears of Orlais and the Wardens. He will unite Ferelden's peoples like they have never been united before. It is time to put the past behind us. I must do so as well. Have you seen Rendon Howe?"

Her words gave him hope. He motioned towards the door across from his old cell. "I saw him go into the dungeons. I have not seen him return, so he is likely still there."

"Thank you, Riordan. Find your way to the Arl Eamon's estate. My brother and Lor would be arriving with him and I doubt my brother would be any more willing to open the Cousland estate than I was. You will be welcomed at Eamon's."

Riordan bowed. "I will, my Lady. Thank you for your generous offer." He turned to Ser Gilmore. "I will meet you at Arl Eamon's then. We will talk more at that time. And good luck…Brother."

Starlynn rolled her shoulders as Riordan disappeared from view. "I need to lighten the load a bit." She unbuckled the metal armor that adorned one arm completely and removed the gauntlet from her other arm. Then she unbuckled the four metal plates that hung down from her hips that protected her thighs. She rolled her shoulders again. "Much better. At least now I will be able to move." She grinned when she noticed Bethany was removing her own metal plates. "Now, let's find Howe and that mage - and give them our regards."

Kyrian didn't like the fact that his wife was now more exposed and a glance in Gilmore's direction showed the Warden was no more appreciative than he was. But he knew better than to say anything. He had faith that his wife knew what she was doing.

The stone ramp descended to another door. They stepped through and were greeted by a guard. A guard with two friends at his back.

"What are you doing here?" the guard demanded. "No other guards were to come down here. Anybody tries to come in here without Howe's say so, we get to do what we like with 'em. I think we finally got a bit of entertainment here, lads!"

When the three men charged them, Bethany swung her staff and clubbed one upside the head. His helmet caved and blood trickled down his neck as he stumbled backwards. She cast a spell to freeze him in place. "Couldn't you have just wiggled your fingers and made them walk away?"

"Where is the fun in that?" Kyrian teased as his sword clashed with a guard's and sent a shockwave up both their arms. He could swear he felt his teeth rattle. He dropped down swiped his foot out and the guard fell hard on his back. The guard's eyes widened in terror as Kyrian's sword came down. Kyrian tried not to wonder if these men believed in Howe or if he was just a paycheck to feed their families. Sometimes, it was better off not knowing what drove a man. It helped him sleep better at nights. "I cannot know how many men are down here. It is likely I would lose control of the first soldiers and they would flank us."

Six more guards rushed in while they were fighting the two that remained in here.

"Hot!" Bethany shouted.

"Cold!" Starlynn replied back.

"Storm!" They said together.

Kyrian blasted the men backwards with a burst of power and then raised his arm to wrap them in a bubble of protection just as the combined spells clashed and a storm shook the stone beneath them as it whirled through the chamber and down the hall. The guards slid and fell on ice, even as they burst into flames. Lightning struck randomly as the two temperature extremes continued to collide. The screams were horrifying but blessedly brief.

When the winds stopped buffeting the shield, he released the energy. Not a guard moved, the smell of roasted flesh made his belly clench in agitation.

Bethany waved her hand in front of her face, trying to alleviate the smell that nearly brought her to her knees. "Remind me not to do that indoors again. I'm not sure I'll be able to eat for a week," she grumbled.

"We should find out the extent of the damage that was done," Starlynn responded quietly. After the spells were cast, she regretted it, but there was nothing she could do to call off the spell, it had to run its course.

-BREAK FIVE-

They left the chamber and continued down the hall, with only the creak of their armor being heard. Each in their own thoughts as they stepped around the charred bodies that lined the hall. Past the next archway was a door on the left that required a key. Kyrian tried to pick it by using his power to pressure the tumblers, but it did not give. With a frustrated swipe of his hand he led them to the only remaining door. There was no sign of the storm's damage beyond the door. The corridor went straight and then veered to the left, where a guard's eyes opened in surprise when he all but walked into the unsuspecting man. Being too close to draw his sword, he pulled the lightsaber from his belt, pressed it to the man's middle and flipped the switch buried in the hilt to ignite it. He slid the blade from one side to the other and the guard's mouth fell open as his top half fell from its perch on his lower half.

The guard blinked in dawning horror as he watched his legs tremble and buckle, falling in a heap next to him. He looked down to where is belly abruptly ended and then up into the man's eyes that had killed him. "Please…don't…don't leave me like this."

Kyrian slashed the glowing pale blue blade across the man's neck and severed his head from his body. The guard's head rolled to the side. His eyes blinked once, then no more. "That," Kyrian said with a shudder, "was not what I expected." Though, it made sense. The man's wounds were cauterized. He wasn't bleeding out. His heart still pumped blood. Death might have been a slow starvation if infection didn't set in. "I will be quicker next time."

Kryian felt no lifesigns through the door on the right so they continued down the corridor, which T'd off to the right. Lifesigns could be felt behind two doors, so he took the one to the right first. Two guards and four mabari – this was another one of the dungeon's kennels then. Likely the next door would also be a kennel. As it turned out, he was wrong. Five guards and a mage were in the next room. Two mages were no match for one, and his mage had the bite of twin daggers to hit the mage where he was most vulnerable – up close.

Back in the hall, he came to a stop at a door on the left. "Here – I feel suffering." He charged through with a battlecry to draw the attention away from whomever was being hurt.

"Kyrian!" Starlynn growled in frustration and pushed herself faster to catch up with her lone-Wulff of a husband. As she stepped through the door, her arm rose to protect her face as a powerful burst of energy propelled the guards away from husband. Two of the guards hit the stone wall with a grisly crunch and did not get back up.

She turned her head from the platform covered in remains of brutalized and dismembered bodies. She did not even want to think about what went on in this room. Instead, she focused on the guard that rushed her. She moved to the side to allow room for Ser Gilmore and Bethany to join them. Her daggers glowed with the magic that coursed through the metal.

When the last man fell, Kyrian wiped his blade off and sheathed it as he turned towards the source the pain that he'd felt. A man in a loin cloth lie tied on a racking table.

"Don't leave me here! Get me out of here! That's an order!" The man on the table barked out in a dry, raspy voice.

"I'm not one of your men and I do not take orders from you," Kyrian replied as he settled his hands on the man's bare torso and sent a wave of healing energy into him. "But I will release you, since the only men I would wish to see on this table are Howe or Loghain."

The man groaned as he slowly sat up and tested his sore muscles. The pain was dramatically less than it had been. Perhaps the warmth he felt was healing, but the man before him spoke no spells or showed signs of flashy magic. He swung his legs off the table and rose to a stand. While his legs trembled, they held his weight. "Was this supposed to be a lesson? Did my father think it funny to leave me for so long before sending you?"

"Unless we share the same father, then I can I tell you that your father did not send me." Kyrian folded his arms over his chest. "While we are both blonde, you do not resemble me."

"No," Starlynn replied. "But he does resemble Ban Sighard."

Kyrian cut his gaze to his wife. "I thought he looked familiar."

"So, my father did not send you. I wonder if he even knows I'm missing." He gripped his left shoulder and rolled it, trying to ease the stiffness. "I'm Oswyn, son of Bann Sighard, of the Dragons Peak Bannorn. Please forgive me, I know I should know two of you, but I am not myself right now."

"Of course. Well met, Oswyn. I am Kyrian Wulff, son of Gallagher Wulff, of the West Hills Arling. This is my wife, Starlynn Cousland-Wulff, daughter of Bryce Cousland, of the Teynir of Highever. And this is Ser Gilmore, formerly of Cousland Castle and his wife, Bethany Hawke."

Oswyn bowed stiffly, but it was the best he could do. "You have my gratitude…and I am sorry for your loss, my Lady. I was unaware any of the Cousland's survived the attack."

"Barely," she said quietly. "I've yet to hear of Fergus, but Kael and I yet live."

"Then you are here for Howe?"

"It's a bit more complicated than that," Kyrian admitted. "The queen is a close family friend and she sent her handmaid to my parent's estate for help when Howe locked her up here at the castle. We were looking for Howe and the mage that sealed her door when we found you."

"The queen was…how far will Howe go? Was she taken because of the Landsmeet? But why? That makes no sense." Oswyn rubbed his forehead.

"Anora questioned some of her father's claims. I think her father also seeks to keep her away from my brother-in-law, Kael and his wife, Lor. They are very close. And Kael is a Theirin by blood and intends to claim his throne. If Anora was to renounce her claim…you can see where this is going."

Oswyn took an unsteady step backwards and bumped the table he'd been racked on. "Kael Cousland is Maric's bastard? I- I cannot believe it. And now I cannot un-see the resemblance. Were we all so blind?" He shook his head. "Then you are here for the Landsmeet – to end Loghain's regime. Loghain may be a hero, but it's a Theirin Ferelden's people will want to see on the throne. There is no greater threat to Loghain than Kael Theirin."

"Now you see," Kyrian said with an incline of his head. "Anora will side with us and while we do not need her to take the throne, her opinion will sway some of Loghain's supporters."

"Indeed. Again, you have my heartfelt gratitude and, I assume, the gratitude of the entire Dragon's Breath Bannorn. If my father sent no one after me, I can only assume that he does not yet know the true colors of the snakes he has allied with. When I return, I will let him know what Loghain and Howe have done to me. I am sure he will wish to thank you himself and offer you any reward you might wish."

He waved his hand negligibly. "We did not rescue you for a reward. We wish only to unite Ferelden, defeat the Blight and work together to help Ferelden recover."

"My husband is right; we do no seek any reward. But, if you do not mind me asking, how did Howe capture you?" Starlynn inquired.

"One soldier returning from Ostagar was my wet-nurse's son. We have been friends since birth. He told me his unit was ordered to turn their backs on Cailan at Ostagar… _before_ the darkspawn overwhelmed him. The next day, he disappeared. When I went to search for him…I accepted a drink from a stranger and ended up here."

"One way or another, Loghain will pay for what he's done to Ferelden," he promised the nobleman.

"If anyone can bring Loghain down, it will be a Theirin. But I swear, my father will speak out against Loghain at the Landsmeet. Now, please, my Lord, I must try to get to my father. I…I cannot see the last of this place too soon."

Kyrian inclined his head. "Turn right from here. We've already cleared out the guards. You can strip one of these for their armor. Safe journey to you, Oswyn."

They left the nobleman to dress and turned left from out of the dungeon. "Here," Kyrian motioned to a door on his right. "There is something …confusion…it is disorienting." He flung the door open to find seven guards who scrambled to grab their weapons.

After the room was cleared, Kyrian followed the sense of confusion to a prison cell. He probed the door's lock with his mind. It was a simple lock. With a pop, the door swung open.

"That is an amazing talent you have, Kyrian…for a thief," Gilmore teased.

"I would never…sure…I'll remember you said that." He turned to study the man that had been locked away. He wore nothing but his smallclothes, his body bent, his mind scattered. "Are you okay?" he asked cautiously.

"They said to retreat. The horn sounded and we turned and then the screams…We rode and they screamed and screamed and -" he gripped his head and wailed out his torment.

Gilmore stepped forward. "Retreat? Screams? Were you at Ostagar?"

He cringed and wavered on his feet. "Mother, can you smell the blood? They said it was only darkspawn, but we ate them too." His body twitched and spasmed. "They died and we left them. In the swamp. The witch. The witch!"

Kyrian shook his head sadly. "I can only assume he means Flemeth, if he's talking about a witch in the swamp. Perhaps he and his friends got separated from Loghain's army and ended up surviving by eating darkspawn, but there's no way to know for sure, not with him in this state."

"Do you think he's a danger to anyone?" Gilmore asked, uncertain what they should even do with him.

"No more dangerous than any man, likely less so. His thoughts are scattered. I do not think he could defend himself if he wanted to." He turned to the sick man. "Try to get somewhere safe."

"Safe? Is there a safe? Perhaps next door…"

While he left, they quickly checked the other cells, but they were empty. They exited the chamber and turned right at the main hall. They passed by a door that held no lifesigns and then turned left to continue following the hall. He pulled up sharply at a door on his right and froze. Here. He took his wife's arm. "We've found him. It is time." He let go of his wife and nodded to the others before he opened the door.

Rendon turned when he heard the door open. So, he was being invaded. His men may have failed in killing all the Cousland brats when they attacked the castle. It would seem fate had given him the chance to rectify that. "Well, well. Bryce Cousland's little spitfire, all grown up and still playing the man. Along with a little Wulff cub panting at her feet. I never thought you'd be fool enough to turn up here. But then I never thought you'd live, either."

"Like a snake in the grass you struck my father when his back was turned. My father stood by your side and defended your honor and you stab him in the back for it!"

"Your father was a traitor to me and a coward to his nation! Trips to Orlais, gifts from old enemies, all while I sank into obscurity. Your family squandered glory that was rightfully mine. How suitable that their deaths should raise me to the ear of a king."

"Rightfully yours?" She seethed. "No one stole your glory, Rendon! You fell in battle – you couldn't keep fighting. It was rotten luck, not stolen glory. And as for Highever…The Teyrnir of Highever was never yours – it was never going to be yours – and it never will be. It is under Cousland control once more. Until Fergus can be found, _I_ am the Teyrna of Highever."

Howe smirked. "And not your brother, Kael?" The loss of the Teyrnir rankled. But Loghain would see that he got it back – or he would…after he dealt with the sniveling offspring.

"Kael is king and you have lost everything!" She taunted.

"And there is it. Right there. That damned look in the eye that marked every Cousland success that held me back." He clapped slowly. "It would appear that you have made something of yourself after all. Your father would be most proud. I, on the other hand, want you and your bastard brother dead now more than ever!" He pulled his weapons and charged the little bitch that thought she was better than him.

"The killing blow is mine!" Starlynn yelled as she and Bethany warded their husbands and charged the two mages. Mages were always caught off guard when she and Bethany attacked with both weapons and magic. The men kept the guards distracted by jumping randomly from guard to guard long enough for them to bring the rival mages down.

One by one the guards fell until Howe fought alone. Not once did he consider surrendering. He had no intension of dying a coward. No mercy, no quarter. It was the way he fought and he expected no less in return. But it was more than that. They would not defeat him because it was his turn to have it all – he deserved it. He felt the cold bite of steel slip between his ribs and he fought on, knowing he would prevail. His feet slipped out from under him and he fell to the hard stone. His breath came in harsh pants and he looked down at the growing puddle of blood. His? Theirs? He clutched his chest when a sharp pain made him gasp. Breath caught in his throat and he coughed until he nearly fell over on his face, his elbow having caught him. He pulled his hand away, wet with blood. So, this was how it ended.

He convulsed with another round of racking coughs and inhaled a rattling, wet breath as he looked up Bryce's little brat. "Maker spit on you…I deserved…more…"

Starlynn held her hand out. "Hand me your lightsaber."

Kyrian flipped the internal switch and carefully handed it to his wife.

She crouched down next to Howe, knowing he was slowly drowning in his own blood. "I want nothing more than to leave you to die slowly, but I am not like you. May the Maker have mercy on your soul." She rose and plunged the lightsaber straight down through his leather armor and into his little, black heart. The blade extinguished and she handed the hilt back to her husband. "Thank you," she said numbly as she walked slowly towards the door. His death hadn't brought her family back, it hadn't found her lost older brother, it only closed a chapter of her life. But her heart went out to Howe's children, for she had left them without parents too. Thus, she felt the weight of Howe's death in a way she'd not anticipated.

"Star, wait – there is someone behind that door. Deep, mental anguish."

Starlynn nodded at her husband and rejoined the group so they could see what was behind the far chamber door. More prison cells. The first one was empty, but the sounds of a man praying led them to the second.

"Maker have mercy on Your faithful servant. Grant me a place at Your side. Grant me the cleansing flames."

A man in his smallclothes knelt on the stone floor of the jail cell. Kyrian stepped forward and used his power to unlock the cell. The man rose to his feet and took a step back. "Andraste, Bride of the Maker, have mercy on me."

"We are not Howe's men, despite our appearance and we are not here to hurt you," Kyrian assured him.

"Alfstanna…is that you, little sister?" he asked Bethany. He squeezed his eyes tight and shook his head before taking another look. "No…I don't know you…do I? Are you real?"

This man was acting disoriented like the other they'd found, but he otherwise seemed fine and not infected with Blight poison. "Are you all right?"

"Alfstanna?" He rubbed his forehead trying to concentrate. "I…don't know. Where is my sister? Have you seen her? I – I'm Irminric, knight-lieutenant of the Denerim chantry. You said you aren't the Teyrn's men?"

"Lyrium," Starlynn blurted out. "Templars take lyrium to help them fight mages. He must be in withdrawal. The book I read talked about the confusion, amongst other things."

Gilmore winced. "When the chantry finds out what Howe and Loghain did to him…"

Irminric moaned. "I failed in my duties. Maker, forgive me. I failed, and there no telling what he's done…Alfstanna is…a far better bann than I would have been…but I…don't remember how I came to be here…"

"What who's done," Kyriana asked, trying to keep the templar on track.

"The malificar. He had turned blood magic upon templars and Circle mages to escape from the tower. Near Redcliffe, I cornered him. But the teyrn's men took him from me…and brought me here…

"Jowan…" Gilmore said with a nod. Now it made sense. That was how Jowan was taken into the teyrn's custody and why the templar could not be let go. Loghain wanted nothing to tie him to the bloodmage he sent after Arl Eamon.

"Yes. He…destroyed his phylactery…we were spread out, trying to find him…I was alone. I…you are real, aren't you? My dreams are…so strange now. Please, if you're not a dream, then I beg you to help me," Irminric implored them.

"The door is open, Irminric, you're free to go – take the armor from a guard and leave," Kyrian explained, with a sweep of his hand towards the dungeon door.

Irminric shook his head slowly. "No one can free me from failure, save blessed Andraste."

He pursed his lips and then sighed. "Then what would you have us do?"

The templar pulled the ring from his finger and held it out to Kyrian. "Give this ring…to my sister, Alfstanna. Tell her…tell her I'm sorry. Please. Ask her…to pray for me." He knelt back down onto the hard floor and began his prayers again, as if he'd never been interrupted. "Lady of Perpetual Sorrows, pray for me…"

Kyrian motioned his arm towards the door. "We should leave. If he cannot leave on his own, then he is safer here than with us in his condition."

They returned back the way they'd come, meeting up with Erlina at Anora's locked door. Kyrian used the key he'd taken from Howe's corpse and unlocked the door. He grinned when he saw Anora. "It would seem you already planned on a get-away," he teased when he saw her dressed in Denerim estate armor.

"Thank you, Kyrian – all of you. Yes, Erlina snuck the armor to me and we were going to sneak out at night. But Howe's men bolted the door and sealed it with magic. Even the best laid plans can fall to superior tactics."

Kyrian inclined his head to Anora. "I'm quite sure Howe would agree with you, were he alive to do so." He unbuckled his belt, pulled the sheathed sword from his belt and handed it to Anora. While Anora slid the sword onto her own belt, he buckled up. He knew the sword would be a bit heavy for her, but he also knew Lor had been working with her. With luck, she would never need to draw her weapon. That thought died quickly, he could feel the cold anger of those that were gathering. "They are waiting for us. A dozen, I think. All exits have come under guard. We all know this is do or die. If we are captured, we will not be ransomed. We will be tortured and killed or killed outright. We are far too dangerous to keep alive for very long, so fight like your lives depend on it – because they do. Now, let's move out."

-BREAK SIX-

Anora squared her shoulders. She could do this. As far as she was concerned, she'd been trained by the best, both in weapons and self-defense. She saw Bethany hand a dagger to her handmaiden. This battle belonged to all of them. She did not even squirm when a dozen guards blocked their path. She smiled. She was not the woman she used to be and she didn't miss her at all.

"My Lord, my Lady, in the name of the regent, I am placing you under arrest for the murder of Rendon Howe and his men-at arms," Cuathrian stated boldly.

Kyrian folded his arms over his chest. "Pray tell, where were you when Rendon Howe butchered my family? Why did you not arrest him for his crimes against the Teyrnir? Because he's in Loghain's pocket?"

"That is heresay, my Lord. There was never any proof that Howe was responsible for what happened to the Couslands!" she spat out, despite her own doubts.

"Is that so? His men taking over the castle? Of course, they must have done that without his permission. Being awarded the Teyrnir by Loghain - again, just coincidence. The servants and soldiers that survived and made the journey back to Denerim – their voices go unheard and ignored. There is far more proof that Howe butchered my family than there is of me killing Howe. Just because I was here to rescue Bann Sighard's son, doesn't mean we were responsible for killing Howe. His own men are disgruntled at their treatment by Howe and the pay they've been shorted. Is it any wonder they would wish him dead?"

Cuathrian studied the Lord intently. His words had truth. She was disgusted by Howe, but he was a friend to Teyrn Loghain. As such, she would protect him. "Did you kill Rendon Howe?"

"Of course," he replied with a slight bow. "Unlike Howe, I'm an honest man. But it was Howe that attacked first, we merely defended ourselves, as was our right," Kyrian pointed out.

"It would be your right if you were not trespassing in Arl Howe's estate. The Arl had every right to attack a trespasser in his home."

"Except, this is not his home. It is simply another property that he has stolen in the name of greed. Anora would never have granted Howe the title of Arl of Denerim. As queen, she is the only person who has the right to transfer a title. Anora did not proclaim her father regent, nor did the nobility of Ferelden give him that power. Teyrn Loghain had no legal standing to give the title and estate away, therefore it belongs to no one and we were not trespassing. Thus, we had a right to defend ourselves," he reiterated.

"I recognize you," Gilmore exclaimed. "You were at Ostagar. You know what really happened and what did not. You know Loghain couldn't see the battle clearly – that's why the signal had to be lit. You know he quit the field without responding to the signal. You know the Wardens fell – almost to the last man to defend Ferelden's king. You know this – yet you still defend him!"

Kyrian kept his voice calm and logical. He could sense the woman's troubled soul. Her conflict was very real. "Loghain is not the man he used to be. Hatred, fear or jealousy, they can twist even the most noble of men. But what he's doing is tearing Ferleden apart and there will be nothing left to fight the darkspawn. We will all fall to the horde if we do not rein him in before it is too late."

Cuathrian stopped pacing and faced the young Lord. "I have had…so many doubts of late. Loghain is a great man, but his hatred of Orlais has driven him to madness. He has done terrible things, I know it, but I owe him everything. I cannot betray him, do not ask me to!"

Kyrian held up his hands. "I am not asking you to betray him. I'm asking you to let us walk out of here so that we can heal Ferelden - it is our only hope if we want to survive the Blight."

"You cannot possibly think of letting them go, Lieutenant," one of the soldier's growled.

"The teyrn wants them dead," another shouted.

"Promise you will help him – don't just kill him. He was our hero…he deserves a chance to redeem himself."

"Lieutenant Cuathrian! I will see you in chains if you do this!" A guard bellowed.

"I can only promise that if he is willing to redeem himself that I will do what I can give him the chance. In the end, it is not my choice to make," he said honestly.

Cuathrian nodded, pulled the greatsword from her back and swung a vicious blow that took off the head of the man that threatened to see her in chains.

Kyrian bit back a laugh at her unexpected move and jumped into battle. It was obvious Cuathrian cared about Loghain and her country.

Even with Cuathrian's help, the battle was a tough one. They were outnumbered, but not outmatched. The people he used his power on, did not live to tell tales. They were all breathing hard by the time the battle was finished.

"If we had the time, I'd ask you about your sword of light. But we don't. The noise from the battle would have drawn too much attention. You must knock me out before you leave. Hurry!" Cuathrian demanded. "Remember your promise, my Lord."

"I cannot hit a lady," Kyrian replied.

"Oh for…," Starlynn marched over to Cuathrian, drew back her arm and let her fist fly. It slammed into the woman's jaw and spun her around. The great sword tumbled from her fingers in a loud clatter as it hit the stone a few moments before the lieutenant did. She shook out her stinging fist and did not look back as she marched straight to the door.

There were no guards outside, but even if they were, they were dressed as Denerim guards and would draw no undue notice. They returned to where they'd left their armor and eagerly shed the guard armor.

Erlina handed Anora a peasant gown and shawl to hide her head when she caught sight of the grinning dwarf all cleaned up. "I did not expect you to stay."

Garrett bowed. "Someone had to stick around to rescue you."

"Of course, how silly of me," Erlina responded, trying not to laugh. What happened today was hair-raising, nothing to laugh over and they wouldn't be safe until they were well away from the Denerim estate.

"Don't ever underestimate the dwarf," he teased. "Now, follow me – I brought mounts."

They mounted in the shadows, with Garrett sharing his mount with Erlina, since neither of them wore armor, and hit out for Eamon's estate at a fast clip.

Eamon's stables were overflowing, their mounts joined others in a makeshift corral at the back of the estate. No sooner did they enter the estate that they were swarmed by family, friends and Paladains. After a round of hugs, those that had extra clothing led them to where they could change out of the armor.

With a quick wash at the basin and a fresh clothing, they rejoined the rest of the nobles and Paladins in the Great Hall. Anora had been given one of Isolde's gowns to wear, since Isolde was back at Redcliffe and wouldn't be needing it.

Eamon raised his arms. "Lords, Ladies, please give us time to catch our newest arrivals up on what we've discovered thus far." He explained about the evidence Tayln found in the Alienage that proved Loghain was selling Ferelden's people as slaves to Tevinter. While many nobles cared little about the plight of the elves, slavery was considered illegal and not to be tolerated.

Kyrian filled them in on what they found when they rescued Anora from Howe's clutches. Oswyn, Bann Sighard's son, taken to stop him from investigating his friend's disappearance and finding out about Loghain's betrayal at Ostegar. About Irminric, Bann Alfstanna's brother, a templar taken when they abducted Jowan so that no one could find out about Loghain sending Jowan to poison Arl Eamon. "According to a drawing on a missing notification in town, we also located a survivor from Ostagar in Howe's dungeon by the name Rexel. Anora has sent her maid, Erlina with Irminric's ring for his sister and to notify the chantry about Rexel."

"Imprisoning and torturing nobles and templars just to cover up his crimes. Selling people into slavery – Loghain is going to lose a lot of supporters at the Landsmeet!" Gallagher's deep voice boomed out across the Great Hall.

Eamon inclined his head. "I agree, Gallagher. These misdeeds give us the proof we need that Loghain is no longer the Hero of River Dane. But we still have some time before the Landsmeet. Continue what you're doing. Get as many nobles on our side as you can."

"My Paladins will be protecting us – we are all at risk right now," Lorianna reminded them. "We should also assign several of the soldiers camping on the outskirts of Denerim to protect the nobles who have declared their intent to support us. Anora," she turned to look at her close friend, "you will be staying with us until the Landsmeet, I hope?"

"I fear there is no place else I would be safe right now. Were I to return home, I suspect my father would have me killed," Anora admitted. "My father has gone mad. He is gripped by a paranoia so severe it prevents him from seeing sense. He sees me as a threat, but even now I'm certain he will be telling the nobles you are dangerous murderers that have kidnapped and mind controlled me." She shook her head. "What is even more sad…he may actually believe it. Howe's influence was strong…it surely worsened my father's condition. That vile man's death can only be a good thing. But I fear that will not be enough. I know my father, and he is committed to his course. He will see it through, no matter what."

Kyrian raised a hand. "There is one more thing I must mention and it is not something most of you will like to hear. Just know it was my best hope at getting Anora out alive. I had words with Cuathrian, Loghain's right-hand lieutenant. She refuses to betray Loghain, but she knows his hatred has twisted into madness. I agreed that while I do not have final say, I will do what I can to ensure Loghain is given a chance to redeem himself – or to get the help he needs rather than killing him outright."

"I won't let you do that! Loghain needs to die for the crimes he committed!" Alistair bellowed.

"Alistair," Kael motioned with his hand to silence his brother. "Gather all of the Wardens, we need to talk…privately." He followed his brother and the noble wardens out into the hall. When they were all gathered, he led them to Eamon's office and leaned his backside against the large, wooden desk. "There are things about being a Warden, I'm not sure any of you are aware of. Perhaps Alistair is. If so, perhaps he needs time to think things through before removing a viable option from the table."

"Are you talking about Loghain?" Alistair fumed, taking an aggressive step towards his brother. "Brother, there's no choice to be made. He needs to die! He let our brother die on the field…he let Duncan die – he did so many horrible things - they cannot be forgiven!"

Kael kept his ass planted on the desk and kept his voice calm. "I'm not asking anyone to forgive him – he was behind the deaths of my family…don't forget that, little brother – because I won't. But there is something you should know about the archdemon -"

Riordan had heard enough. He stepped into the room and closed the door. "One would wonder how you know anything concerning Grey Warden matters, your Majesty."

His gaze narrowed on Riordan. He did not have a lot of faith in the honesty of Grey Wardens. They told you only what they wanted you to know and nothing more. And there was nothing they wouldn't do to accomplish their goals. Good or ill. That was unacceptable to him. "My grandfather was a collector of books. He acquired a very old Grey Warden journal. It was a thoroughly captivating read, I assure you. I also assure you I will not let my family and friends face what is to come without disclosing the whole truth."

The elder Warden frowned but inclined his head to the king. "Now is not the time for lies or deceit. When I saw you gather the Wardens, I followed. They are all new to the Order and I wasn't sure how much they'd had time to learn. But it would seem there is much they still do not know." He glanced over at the king and at the man's nod, he continued. "Have you ever wondered why the Grey Wardens are needed to defeat the darkspawn?"

"I assumed it has something to do with the taint in us," Berchan pointed out.

"It does," Riordan agreed with an incline of his head. "The archdemon may be slain as any other darkspawn, but should any other than a Grey Warden do the slaying, it will not be enough. The essence of the beast will pass through the taint to the nearest darkspawn and will be reborn anew in that body. The dragon is thus all but immortal. But if the archdemon is slain by a Grey Warden…its essence travels into the Grey Warden, instead."

"That doesn't sound very healthy," Lyrica murmured. Her gaze lifted to meet her husband's troubled expression. She was not the only one worried about what they were hearing.

"It's not, Lyrica. A darkspawn is an empty, soulless vessel, but a Grey Warden is not. The essence of the archdemon is destroyed…and so is the Grey Warden."

Alistair was not prepared to hear those words. They all knew they could die fighting Loghain…fighting darkspawn. But this wasn't a vague possibility, this was real. This was the end. "Meaning…the Grey Warden who kills the archdemon …dies?"

"Yes," Riordan confirmed, his voice softening over the word. "Without the archdemon, the Blight ends. It is the only way. As far as we know, the transfer of the archdemon's essence is automatic. If on e of us is not present when the killing blow is made, it is all for nothing. There is no other way. For what it's worth, I'm sorry. But you needn't make the blow yourselves. In Blights past, when the time came the eldest of the Grey Wardens would decide which amongst them would make the final blow. If possible, the final blow should be mine to make. I am the eldest, and the taint will not spare me much longer. But if I fail, the deed falls on you. The Blight must be stopped now or it will destroy all of Ferelden before the rest of the Grey Wardens can assemble. Remember that."

Kael rose from the desk. "Thank you, Riordan. I think it was better coming from you than me – I am too close to them. The thought -" he shook his head and inhaled deeply. "That is why I called you in here. You are my friends…my family and I don't want to see any of you die. Not when there could be an alternative. Loghain. When I take my throne, we can use him. If he survives the Joining, he can make the final blow."

"You cannot do that!" Alistair fumed. "You want to make him some kind of martyr? Giving his life for Ferelden? He doesn't deserve to die a hero! Not after what he's done!"

Kael crossed his arms over his chest and stared at his brother. "Is that all you see? Are you as blinded by hate as Loghain? Do _you_ want to make the final blow? Do you want to die without ever seeing Ann again? You are young in the taint, there is still a chance you and Ann could have that family you always wanted. Or would you prefer the others to lose a spouse when we have a chance of saving them? I'm putting aside my need to kill him for the safety of my family and friends. Are you not willing to do the same, brother?"

He hated it when his brother turned logic on him. At least, he hated it this time. Loghain deserved to die a traitor's death – not a hero's death! But the cost would be the life of one of his friends. Ann…he'd promised to find her. This was all too much. Too much.

Kael nodded when his brother stormed out of the office without another word. "Then he's accepted what must be done."

"How can you know that?" Riordan asked skeptically.

He caught the older Warden's eye. "He didn't keep arguing. He saw what I wanted him to see and he's accepted it. He just needs to work through his emotions now. I'm sure my wife will squirrel him away someplace private and help him work it out. She's good at that."

Riordan studied the young man who would be king. His head was where it needed to be and he made sound choices. "Your decision about Loghain…it was a wise choice. A choice most in your position would have not considered."

He shrugged. "I prefer to have as many backup plans as possible. I need to be crowned before I can go forward with any plans."

"True enough," Riordan responded with a nod. "I will turn in this eve, your Majesty. We will have plenty of time to talk before the Landsmeet."

When the Warden left, he nodded to the others. "Try to get some sleep. It's been a trying day."

-THE LANDSMEET-

There were several assassination attempts leading up the Landsmeet, but the Paladins and soldiers were diligent in their duties. Kael doubted the Crows would bother taking another contract dealing with the nobility of Ferelden. But now it was time to claim his throne and focus on the real threat to his country. The Bight.

With his wife and brother at his side and friends, family and Paladins in his wake, he marched through the Castle towards the Landsmeet chamber. The double doors opened and Cuathrian stepped forward to meet them.

"I was told of your arrival. Loghain wanted to ensure you did not interrupt the proceedings." She knelt down on one knee. "Please heed your brother's promise. Show mercy. Without Loghain, there would be no Fereldon to defend."

"Would he even accept mercy were I to offer it?" He asked quietly as he passed her by. Kadar and Berchan each manned a door, allowing their party to enter the GreatRoom.

Gallagher rose from his seat, his wife and Arl Eamon at his side. "My Lords, Ladies of the Landsmeet, Teyrn Loghain would have us give up our freedoms, our traditions, out of fear! He placed us on this path, yet we should place our destiny in his hands? Must we sacrifice everything good about our nation to save it?" He nodded to the nobles that applauded his words.

Loghain clapped slowly, mocking Gallagher and the nobles that clapped for him. "A fine performance, Gallagher, but no one here is taken in by it. You would attempt to put a puppet bastard – your own son-in-law -on the throne and every soul here knows it. And Eamon – your close ties with the Cousland family are well known. The better question is, 'Who will pull the puppet's strings?' You, Gallagher? You, Eamon? Or will the little wife be the puppeteer? Ah…Maric's chosen daughter who refused to marry his rightful son and heir, now seeks to take the throne from Cailan's real wife and rule Ferelden with a bastard king. Insulting! You should all be insulted!"

He marched to the center of the room, so that all would see him. "Tell us, Kael, how _will_ the Orlesians take our nation from us? Will they deign to send their troops, or simply issue their commands through you? Is this what your family wanted all along? To put an Orlesian sympathizer on our great throne? What did they offer you? How much is the price of Ferelden honor now?"

Kael's gaze locked onto Loghain's. "Is that all you see, Loghain? The Blight is at our backdoor and you shout, 'Orlesians'? It's not the Orlesians we have to worry about, it's the darkspawn!"

Bann Darling of Winter's Breath stepped forward. "There are enough refugees in my bannorn now that make that abundantly clear!"

"The south has fallen, Loghain! Will you let darkspawn take the whole of the country for fear of Orlais?" Teagan demanded.

"The Blight is indeed real, Teagan. But do we need Grey Wardens to fight it?" Loghain countered. "They claim that they alone can end the Blight, yet they failed spectacularly against the darkspawn at Ostagar, and they ask to bring with them four legions of chevaliers. And once we open our borders to the chevaliers, can we really expect them to simply return from whence they came?"

Kael folded his arms over his chest. "Did you see an archdemon at Ostagar? No. The Blight can only end when the archdemon is destroyed. Without that, it is only a battle like any other. And that is not what we are here to discuss. We are here to discuss your crimes against Ferelden. You allowed Rendon Howe to imprison and torture noble and templar alike."

Bann Sighard gripped the banister and leaned over. "Teyrn Kael speaks truly! My son was taken under cover of night while searching for his best friend – a survivor from Ostagar that spoke out against you! The things done to him…some of them are beyond any healer's skill."

"Howe was responsible for himself! He will answer to the Maker for any wrongs committed in this life. As must we all. But you know that, it was your family that murdered him. Whatever Howe may have done, he should have been brought before the seneschal. There is no justice in butchering a man in his home."

"The Arl of Denerim's estate was not Howe's. Only the monarchy has the power to give or take titles – you do not. Thus, they had a right to defend themselves from attack. And you say you had nothing to do with Howe's activities? Do you remember the blood mage, Jowan, that you captured? How about the Templar that had found him? Both were thrown in the dungeon on your order - you released the blood mage to poison Arl Eamon. The templar remained in the dungeon until we found him and notified his sister."

"I assure you, if I were going to send someone, it would be my own soldiers. I would not trust the discretion of an apostate." Logain's argument sounded weak even to his own ears. He could not have openly attacked Eamon. Even his supporters would not have tolerated that.

"Indeed?" Bann Alfstanna responded in an icy cold tone. "My brother tells a very different story. He says you snatched a blood mage from the chantry's justice. Coincidence?"

"Do not think the Chantry will overlook this, Teyrn Loghain," Grand Cleric Elemena warned. "Interference in a templar's sacred duties is an offense against the Maker."

Jowan stepped up next to Arl Eamon from the shadows of the balcony, intending to have his say, until a hand pushed him back into the shadows.

"Don't do it, Jowan. I know you wish to help, but you will only make things more difficult for them. Keep your cowl up and do not be seen," Eamon admonished, not unkindly.

Loghain blinked and his lips thinned. This was not going how he'd planned. That mewling pretender was outmaneuvering him at every turn. "Whatever I have done, I will answer for later." He turned from the Grand Cleric to face his accuser. "At the moment, however, I wish to know what this puppet has done with my daughter."

"Why ever would we do anything with Anora?" Lorianna asked, a smile pulling at her lips. Anora had claimed her father would make such an accusation.

"You took my daughter – our queen – by force, killing her guards in the process. What arts have you employed to keep her? Does she even still live?" Loghain demanded.

Lor's brows rose in surprise. She could sense no deceit in his words – not this time. He truly believed what he was saying. "Does she still live? Why would you ask me that? She's one of my closest friends. Everyone here knows that. _You_ know that. We are enjoying spending some time together. There is no crime in that."

This was the cue Anora had been waiting for. She handed her hooded cloak to the Prince of Starkhaven and stepped forward into the room. "I believe I can speak for myself." She continued walking forward. "Lords and Ladies of Ferelden, hear me. My father is no longer the man you knew. This man is not the Hero of River Dane. This man turned his troops aside and refused to protect your king as he fought bravely against the darkspawn. This man seized Cailan's throne before his body was cold and locked me away so I could not reveal his treachery. I would have already been killed, if not for Kael's brave family, who risked their lives to free from my prison."

Loghain shook his head in disbelief. Not his own daughter. His gaze captured hers, needing to see the truth of her feelings. Shame. Sorrow. Fear. Then…it was so. He'd lost her. "So, the Couslands and Wulffs have poisoned even your mind, Anora? I wanted to protect you from this," his voice thick with sorrow that weighed heavy on his heart. He turned away from his daughter and faced the assembly, his arms raised to implore them to listen. "My Lords and Ladies, our land has been threatened before. It's been invaded, and lost, and won times beyond counting, We Fereldens have proven that we will never truly be conquered so long as we are united. We must not let ourselves be divided now. Stand with me, and we shall defeat even the Blight itself!"

One by one, the Banns and Arls stepped forward and gave their votes to Kael – a man that built an army to defend Ferelden rather than attack its people. Only a single noble stood behind Loghain. Kael turned to face the once-named hero. "The Landsmeet has voted against you, Loghain. Step down peacefully."

No! it can't end like this! Everything he'd fought for would be lost. "Traitors!" Logain growled. "Which of you stood against the Orlesian emperor when his troops flattened your fields and raped your wives?" He swung around and looked up at the balcony. "You fought with us once, Eamon. You cared about this land once. Before you got to old and fat and content to even see what you risk! None of you," he snarled, motioning the crowd with a swipe of his hand, "deserve a say in what happens here! None of you have spilled blood for this land the way I have! How dare you judge me!"

"Do not do this to Anora, Loghain. Despite what has happened, you are still her father and she loves you. I implore you, stand down," Kael stated, loudly yet calmly.

"I will not!" he growled. "Let us end this. I suppose we both knew it would come to this. When we met at Ostagar, I knew you would be more trouble than Cailan. But Ostagar seems like it happened in another lifetime, to someone else." He released a harsh breath. "A man is made by the quality of his enemies. Maric told me that once. I wonder if it's more a compliment to you or me. Enough," he growled with a swipe of his hand. "Let the Landsmeet declare the terms of the duel."

Bann Alfstanna's voice rose above the whispering nobles. "It shall be fought according to tradition: a test of arms in single combat until one party yields. And we who are assembled will abide the outcome."

"Will you face me yourself or do you have a champion?" Loghain asked.

"This is between you and I, Loghain. I fight my own battles."

"So did Cailan – you can see where that got him," Loghain scoffed. "Have you learned nothing?"

"My brother believed in you – I know better. You'll not find my back so easy to stab," Kael warned.

"Prepare yourself!" Loghain snarled, signaling the crowd to back away.

They began by slowly moving in a circle, keeping their sides turned to each other, evaluating any signs of weakness. "I'm sorry, Loghain, this is an unfair fight."

His gaze lowered to take in Kael's chainmail gambeson and the armor pieces that only covered his upper chest, one arm and lower legs. "Then you should have put on your daddy's armor."

"I meant…for you. I am faster and can move easier than you. Were I to fight you in the manner in which my wife trained me, you would be on your back with my sword at your neck before you could draw your weapon. But I will fight you in the manner in which we were both trained. Let no one question the validity of this battle."

"I thought you different, but your head's in the clouds just like Cailan's. No one can-" The breath was knocked out of him when he landed hard on his back in a clank of armor, the cold bite of steel at his throat.

"Now," Kael said as he slid his sword back into its scabbard and offered a hand to Loghain, "shall we do it your way?"

Loghain knocked away the hand and rolled to his side to push himself up into a stand. More armor meant more protection, but it also meant less maneuverability. That was aptly displayed to him. If they continued the fight, he would swing and Kael would likely not be there to receive the blow. Kael's blows would do little damage to his armor but the bastard had proven himself fast, as such he could strike between the plates. If it came down to endurance, Kael had the advantage of youth and lighter armor. Outthinking your enemy was an important tactic. Kael outmaneuvered him every step of the way. Perhaps he was wrong about Maric's bastard being strong enough to lead Ferelden. He had the confidence and strength of youth, the surety of knowledge, the determination of a survivor and the intelligence to outwit an entrenched enemy. He also had diplomatic skills, bringing in the Queen of Orzammar, the Prince of Starkhaven and his own daughter. He knew his own weaknesses and he'd never been a diplomatic man. He saw what needed to be done and did it. Kael would be a better king than Cailan ever was. But his ties to Orlais….

Loghain lifted his shield and drew his sword and charged the would be bastard-king.

Kael spun to the side at the last moment and slammed his shield into Loghain's back, sending the older man stumbling forward.

They turned to face each other once more and came together in a clash of armor and shields, shoving each other back enough to raise their swords. Loghain struck, Kael blocked with sword and shield, allowing Loghain to deliver punishing blows, which he was not always there to receive.

Round after round, Loghain was beginning to feel the strain of a prolonged duel. Why had Kael given him a second chance? He'd already won the battle. Was it stupidity or honor? No. The young man had already proven his intelligence. Honor then. Honor did not always win wars. Would he be able to make the tough decisions that made a lie of honor? No matter. He doubted he would be alive to find out. He hissed when he felt the bite of steel across the outside of his thigh. The warmth of blood trickled down his leg. He knelt on one knee, his sword and shield tips resting on the ground. "I underestimated you, Kael Theirin, I thought you were like Cailan, a child wanting to play at war." He dropped his weapons and rose to his feet. "I was wrong. There's a strength in you that I have not seen anywhere since Maric died. I yield."

Kael inclined his head. "I accept your surrender. But whether you live or pay for your crimes depends on the choice you make." Kael motioned Riordan to join them.

"I do not intend to give him the choice," Riordan stated baldly, "though a chance at life is preferable to none, yes?" He directed the question to the defeated teyrn. "As you know, Grey Wardens have the right to conscript recruits during times of Blight. The teyrn is a warrior and general of renown, albeit notorious of late." He straightened his shoulders and gazed out at the Lords and Ladies. "Let it be known, that I hereby conscript Loghain Mac Tir into the ranks of the Grey Wardens."

Kael held up his hands as shouts reverberated across the Greatroom. "The Grey Warden is within his rights to conscript Loghain. There is nothing I or anyone else can do about it." He nodded to Riordan who led Loghain away, surrounded by soldiers, to protect him until tempers cooled.

Eamon inclined his head to Gallagher and stepped forward. He knew it would not be appropriate for Gallagher to usher his son and daughter to the throne. "So, it is decided. Kael will take his father's throne with Lorianna, his queen – just as Maric had always intended. Anora, you must swear fealty to our new King and Queen and relinquish all claim to the throne for yourself and your heirs."

"I have no desire to fight my friends for the throne. Ferelden will have a solid monarchy. Kael, Lor…you have always had my support. I relinquish all claim to the throne for myself and my heirs," Anora stated with a smile of satisfaction on her face. Ferelden was in good hands. Her father survived the Landsmeet. Despite the atrocities he'd committed, he was still her father and she hoped that with removal from power he would come to see how far he'd fallen and try to make amends.

Lorianna took Anora's hand and drew her close to her side. She would never forget Anora's support. Things could have ended far worse than they did.

When Eamon received the signal from Kael, he withdrew the sealed missive that proclaimed Kael king of Ferelden. "Lords and Ladies of the Landsmeet. There is proof that Maric always intended for his son to rule Ferelden. Three copies of this missive were made by Maric's hand. This one, left in the care of the Couslands, survived." He broke the seal and opened the parchment. He recited the words written by King Maric establishing Kael's true name and paternity, granting him the title of Prince of Ferelden, second in line for the throne. He then folded the missive and looked up at his king. "Your Highness, would you address the Landsmeet?"

"My father, King Maric, was defined by his commitment to protecting this land. As your king, I will do no less than my father. With the assistance of my wife and her Paladins, we have untied Ferelden's peoples to protect the land once more. The formal coronation will occur when the Blight is defeated. If I and our queen fall in battle, Prince Alistair will take the throne. Everyone, make ready. We stand together against the Blight: elves, mages, Grey Wardens, dwarves, nobles, commoners, chasind, avvar, and yes..even Orlesians. No sword will be refused, because the Blight is not just Ferelden's problem, but all of Thedas'. We must stand together as one to save our country and stop the Blight from spreading. We will stand strong! We will defeat it! We are Fereldens!"


	12. A Thedas Tale Ch12 - The Blight

Dragon Age

A Thedas Tale

Ch 12 – The Blight

Alistair sat on edge of the huge, wooden desk, swinging his leg in irritation. "I can't believe we all had to _donate_ our amulets just to make that traitor a Warden!" He shoved off the desk and in a wave of fury." I hope the Joining kills him – and I wish I was there to see it!"

Kael clapped a hand on his brother's shoulder and squeezed it. "I hate him as much as you do, brother. But I pray he yet lives. We need him, as much as thought eats at me. If a Grey Warden needs to die to end the Blight – then let it be him."

If the magic hadn't preserved the blood in the amulet so well, Loghain would never have been given the chance to become a Warden. And one of them would have died fighting the Archdemon. Alistair knew he had to keep that thought forefront in his mind but every time he saw the man, reason was hard to hold onto. "If he survives, I'm done with the Wardens. I will never call that man brother!"

He inclined his head at Alistair's words. He knew no one ever truly left the Wardens. But he hoped the Wardens would not push the matter. "Glad to hear it. You are Crown Prince of Ferelden. I need you here with us. There will be much work to be done after the Blight is defeated."

"You realize that I'll be going to find Ann, right? I mean, I won't exactly be around here, you know," Alistair pointed out.

"True. But I know where Kirkwall is – disappearing with the Wardens is something altogether different. Besides," he said with a tilt of his head. "I'm counting on you to talk Ann and her family into coming back home." In truth, he more than counted on it. After the Blight was over, he intended to make his brother Teyrn of Gwaren. Alistair was Crown Prince, but he needed more than just being an ambassador to the people and patting babies' heads. He needed a position of responsibility – and that was one he could grow into. A Teyrnir that had been ignored for too long. While he felt bad, he could not give the Teynir to Anora. The title and lands had been stripped from Loghain and that included heirs as well. One way or another he would ensure she remained titled nobility – the how of it would have to wait until the Blight was defeated and the coronation completed.

"Oh, do you really think-" Alistair's words silenced when he saw Elvie storm past the office. "I don't think I'm going to like what that means." Elvie was the mage chosen to prepare the Joining ceremony. Riordan had chosen well. She was the strongest mage he'd ever seen. If she was mad, it was because Loghain survived. She hated him for making promises to Uldred that ended with a great many of her friends dead. While the deed can't be laid directly at Loghain's feet, it did begin Uldred's fall.

Riordan stepped into the room. "It is done, your Majesty. Loghain has joined the ranks of the Wardens. He is recovering in a guest room next to mine. He will stay with me. I will give him what training time allows for. He is aware of how the Archdemon must be killed, I told him before the Joining. Had he refused, I would have killed him. But he did not. He requested to make the killing blow himself. I believe he wishes to atone."

"He can never atone for what he's done!" Alistair growled. "But at least he will be dead."

The older Warden nodded. "I intend to gather the Wardens tomorrow morning, we will-"

"There is no _we_. I am no longer a Grey Warden. I am the Crown Prince of Ferelden and I will fight at my brother's side to end the Blight – but I want nothing to do with the Wardens. Have your meetings and make your plans – but do it without me. I'm sorry, Riordan, but I will not give my life to an Order I no longer believe in," Alistair stated matter of fact and strode purposely out of the office.

Kael stepped closer to the older Warden. "Your secrets are safe with him. But he is a royal now and that makes him untouchable – even by the Wardens. I ask that you leave my brother in peace, Riordan. He has made his choice and I intend to back it."

"Understood, your Majesty," Riordan replied with an incline of his head. "I hope this does not affect our alliance in any way."

"Of course not. We will stand with the Wardens to end the Blight. I have nothing against you, Riordan. I just do not like 'the end justifies the means' mentality. If a decision costs your soul, then it was never the right choice." A slow breath slipped from his lips. "Listen to me preaching like a sister. Let the staff know if you need anything, Riordan. I must go and speak with Eamon; he will be leaving after we break our fast."

"I am aware. We will be leaving in a few days as well, your Majesty. Berchan and Lyrica will remain in Denerim to protect it. Tayln, Gilmore and Loghain will ride with me to Redcliffe, he informed the king.

Kael inclined his head. "Thank you for letting me know. I was considering having my brother go with Eamon. I will ensure that doesn't happen now. Having Loghain away from Denerim is best for now until tempers cool. Although, I don't imagine he will be welcome at Redcliffe either." His gaze lowered to stare into the flickering flames of the hearth fire. "It will take time to heal the wounds he inflicted. I am not certain if Ferelden will ever forgive or forget, but perhaps if he dies defeating the archdemon…." He shook his head. "I just don't know." He cleared his throat and held his arm out to Riordan. "If I do not see you before you depart…Maker go with you, Riordan," he said when the Warden clasped forearms with him.

Riordan agreed completely. Tempers were still burning over Loghain' s actions. He was a great tactician and general, but he did not know how to run a country. The Wardens needed him for his strategic mind. He hoped that he, himself, would make the killing blow so that Loghain could return to the Wardens. There is much the Wardens could learn from Loghain and perhaps the ex-teyrn would learn to temper his fears. "May the Maker guide you and keep you safe, your Majesty." He released the king's arm and left to seek out Loghain. He needed to speak with the new Warden before he took his rest.

When Kael went to seek out his brother later, Alistair was calm once more. Lor had winked at him as she left the Prince's chamber. "Loghain will be riding out with Riordan in a few days, to Redcliffe castle."

Alistair took another sip of ale and settled the tankard on the table next to him. "Good. It is easier to deal with him being alive when I don't have to see him breathing."

He chuckled over his brother's words. "I think we all feel the same. But he serves a greater purpose than my revenge." He raked a hand through his hair and it drifted back into place in a golden shimmer. "If it weren't for the archdemon…"

Alistair frowned at his brother's perfect hair. He, himself, had to keep his hair cut short or he looked a mess after hours in a helmet…or sleeping…or pretty much anytime. "You realize Riordan is going to try to take the final blow?" Alistair asked him point blank.

"I know," he bit out. "I understand why he thinks he needs to be the one to do it. He's far closer to the Calling than the others. If Loghain lives…" he shook his head. "I may be king of Ferelden, but the Wardens are beyond my reach, except to exile them from our country – and I do not intend to do that. I cannot, however, guarantee his safety within our borders, if he survives the Blight. Even now, Riordan is having his food and drink monitored. They cannot be gone from the castle soon enough."

Alistair did not want to think about Loghain surviving, instead his gaze swiveled around the room, taking in the silky, carved wooden furniture and large bed. He would never have thought he'd end up in a room like this. "I can't believe this is the room our brother grew up in." He frowned as a disturbing thought crossed his mind. "I hope he didn't wet the bed."

Kael laughed softly at the absurd notion. "Likely, he did not have the same bed he had as a child. Though, I should like to watch you shove your nose into the mattress ticking and sniff around it like a hound on a scent trail."

"Ewwww…." Alistair complained with a groan, his nose wrinkling in disgust. "How could you think such a thing? Besides, I'm supposed to be the funny one – not you," he pointed out with a mock glare.

Kael slapped his palm to his forehead. "Of course! How silly of me to forget. I shall try not to do so again."

"See how easy that was?" Alistair teased with a smirk. A moment later, the smile slipped from his lips. "I wonder how Ann is doing?"

"You'll see her soon enough, brother." He rose and slapped his brother on the shoulder as he headed towards the door. "We beat Loghain, stopped a civil war – now we will defeat the Blight…" he settled his hand on the door frame and looked back at his brother, still seated at the table, "then we can all get on with our lives." Or at least get on with repairing Ferelden. He nodded to his brother and then stepped out into the hallway. He felt for Alistair. The thought of being away from his wife at a time like this…he shook his head. Even the thought was unbearable.

The atmosphere in the castle lightened significantly with the departure of Loghain. While they were waiting to hear back from Eamon, Lor made it her duty to make Jowan into someone new, so that his past would no longer haunt him. While he had done good deeds and was redeeming himself, nothing he could ever do would erase the stain of using blood magic against others. No changes they could make would be enacted in time to save him from tranquility or death. He chose to use his grandfathers' names, thus becoming Jethro Melner. With clipped hair and a trimmed beard, he looked nothing like himself. And with his growing confidence, even his voice had changed. Gone were the mage robes, replaced by light armor. He wore twin daggers at his hips and a dual-bladed staff strapped to his back. No one would mistake the deadly weapon for a mage's staff – only the use of magic would give that away. The only people who knew the truth about Jowan were her close friends and family – and she intended to keep it that way.

A couple of weeks later a messenger bird brought word that the elves and mages had already arrived at Redcliffe. Scouts spotted the dwarves a few days out.

Alistair looked at the message in his brother's hand and nodded. "Then we should leave for Redcliffe. If we don't deal with the archdemon soon, it'll get cranky. And nobody wants that."

Kael grinned. "We certainly don't." He rubbed the message between his fingers. "While the message implies the horde will hit Redcliffe, I'll not leave Denerim undefended. The small armies we came to Denerim with will remain here under the command of the de Montforts. Anora will be regent while we battle the Blight. Eat up, tuck in…we'll mount up after we break our fast."

They set out after the dawning and pushed their mounts as much as they dared, arriving on the outskirts of Redcliffe in a little over a week. The air was hazy with the hint of smoke. As they drew closer, Lorianna spun Shadow around. She could see the strained look on her mother's face. "The darkspawn are nearby. Be prepared."

"Are you sure, Lor? Not that I'm doubting you, sister – I just don't feel them," Alistair admitted.

"You will," Staria warned, a shiver racing down her back. There was no mistaking the tendrils of icy-cold numbness, like an oily tentacled mist reaching outward to devour everything in its path as darkspawn drew close. Even worse, the Tainted Ones left behind a predatory fog of wrongness that saturated everything in its wake. The land would need her and her children to restore balance once the archdemon was destroyed and the Blight ended.

Alistair covered the lump of dread as they closed in on Redcliffe town. "I feel them now," he murmured to no one but himself. Which meant the darkspawn were alerted to their presence as well. "They'll know we're here too," he called out so everyone would understand that there would be no ambushing their enemy.

"There!" Gallagher pointed out the burning wagon and slaughtered oxen.

Lor swung her mount to the left and crossed the bridge to see a man running towards her.

"Your Majesties! You're here!" the man said as he gasped in a deep lungful of breath. "Andraste's mercy that you got here when you did! I thought for sure these monsters were going to get me!"

"The darkspawn? Have they killed everyone?" she asked as the rest of reined in behind her.

"No…they all fled to the castle this morning, after the scouts reported the horde was nearly upon us. I thought I could make it to my home and back before they got here, but it took me too long to get down here." He ran the back of his dirt-stained hand across his forehead. "What a relief you arrived!"

The castle must be bursting at the seams what with growing armies and all the villagers. "Head to the castle, we'll scout the village," she told him.

"Yes, your Majesty. Right away. Thank you again!" He nodded to the others crowding in behind her, turned and fled in the direction of the castle.

They moved off the bridge and dismounted. "Syn, Zev, Emalynd – I need you to stay here to protect our mounts. We cannot risk them falling to darkspawn or bandits. I'm confident you will do whatever needs to be done to keep them safe," Kael told them with an incline of his head. While Ema had come a long way since they'd found her skeletal and near death, her memory was still spotty and he was not certain she was ready for the thick of battle, but she could spell protection for Syn and Zev, if needed.

With a nod, he left them behind and motioned the others to follow him down the hill leading to Redcliffe village. There was a small group of darksawn coming up the hill towards them. With her talented Paladins and her jedi trained family, even a dozen Tainted Ones were no match for them.

Further down the hill and across another bridge, they ran into another group of darkspawn. "This isn't right!" Lor shouted to be heard over the din of clashing steel. "I can't feel the horde! It's like this is a scouting party! Or just enough to…"

"A diversion! My daughter's right," Staria agreed. "We need to sweep Redcliffe and find out where the true horde is."

"Sweep?" Sebastian asked as he notched another arrow to take out the last archer.

Bethany grinned and cast a protection glyph on Kael, who seemed determined to try to eradicate the largest and most deadly of the darkspawn by himself. "She means kill all the darkspawn."

"That, we are getting rather good at," he replied with a grin and followed the others further down the hill. He came to a stop when the rest of the Paladins did.

"Ogres," Alistair grumbled. "At least they are not at the top of a tower. Still…I have little desire to become Alistair-bait again."

Elvie looked down the hill and saw one of the monstrosities turn to face them. "I'll take care of the ogres," she told them. "But I will only be able to take them one at a time, unless you can maneuver them close together."

"My children and I can do that," Staria volunteered.

Elvie nodded and backed away from the group, that were now heading into the village. When she had enough space, she chanted the spell to transform into a high-dragon. With a harsh cry she rose into the air and peered down on the village. There were about 20 darkspawn, but it was the largest two that concerned her. She circled tighter and roared out in eagerness. She saw the figures on the ground stumble and fought the need to scorch the darkspawn in flames. But to do so, would destroy the town.

When the two ogres were as close as they were going to get, she folded back her large wings and dove, stretching her front legs forward, claws widening. She could feel the brush of magic against her, but her shielding spell held.

The ogres went rigid, their weapons falling to the ground. Her claws sank into their large bodies and her unfurled wings sent gusts of wind, bodies pinwheeling backwards until she'd managed to get high enough to be out of range. She felt the sting of arrows nick at her shield, but still…it held. She curled her claws in, sinking them deeper into the ogres when they struggled in her grasp.

She spotted a burning building that could not be saved and released her burdens into the inferno. Flames belched upwards when the bodies crashed through what was left of the roof. She spiraled downward, but her senses picked up no signs of life. She cried out in victory and circled back around to see how the battle was progressing. Her head snaked to the right and her body followed. Flames shot from her mouth towards a small group of darkspawn. She shook her head in horror and clamped her jaws shut, sealing the flames within. Smoke seeped from between her teeth and she shook her head again. It was time to change back before she lost herself to a dragon's instincts. When Morrigan changed, she was simply human in a different form. When Elvie changed, she became what she changed into. She did not lose herself all at once and, in truth, it was only the dragon form that she had a hard time controlling, especially if she allowed the dragon instincts and senses to guide her for too long.

She located a clearing and landed. In a flash of light, she was human again – the dragon senses gone as if they had never been a part of her. She pulled her dual-sword staff, the crystal between the two hilts glowing lavender, and charged towards the ensuing battle. A battle that had already been won before she arrived.

They returned to their mounts, noticing the trio had been busy taking down their own darkspawn. Despite the victory, it did not feel like a win. No one spoke. No one smiled. Only the thunder of horses' hooves against the packed dirt could be heard. They slowed their mounts to maneuver around darkspawn bodies. So, the creatures had made it to the keep.

A platoon of mixed soldiers greeted them outside the gate leading to the keep's grounds. The gate was raised and they rode straight to the stables, where stable lads ran out to take their mounts. As before, the grounds were filled with tents, but this time the armies mingled together. Even the mages found bedding where they could amongst the soldiers.

A soldier clad in Eamon's colors weaved through the tents in a hurry to reach them. "Take a breath, my good man, and tell us what you will," Kael told him.

Tomer caught his breath and nodded. "I was told to watch for your arrival, your Majesties. Riordan and Loghain arrived just ahead of the darkspawn attack. He has urgent news for you!"

He frowned at his wife. Riordan should have arrived a couple of weeks ago. "Then we shall make haste."

Tomer bowed. "I should take you to the Greathall right away, your Majesties. They'll be waiting for you there."

Once in the keep, the doors to the Greathall were already being held open for them. Kael and his wife swept into the room, followed by the Wulffs and then the Paladins.

Riordan stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the newly arrived Wardens. It was good they had survived. There were far too few Wardens in Ferelden to fight a blight. "I'm glad you all arrived safely." He bowed at the king and queen. "The darkspawn that attacked Redcliffe were relatively few in number, I'm afraid. It was assumed the horde was marching in this direction…but that is not true."

"Riordan tells us that he and Loghain scouted to the south. The bulk of the horde is, in fact, heading towards Denerim. They are, perhaps, two days away from the capital," Eamon explained.

"What?" Alistair asked, his heart dropping down to his feet. "Are we sure about that? I mean…if that's true…"

"I ventured in close enough to 'listen in', as it were," Riordan told them. "I am quite certain."

"Why did we think they were coming here?" Gallagher growled.

Alistair shook his head. "Because we've been too busy killing each other," he could not stop his gaze from landing on Loghain, "to pay attention to some silly, old darkspawn horde."

Riordan scratched his beard-covered cheek. "There is, I'm afraid, one other piece of news that is of even greater concern." He turned and walked towards the hearth, staring into the flames. "The archdemon has shown itself. The dragon is at the head of the horde."

Teagan's arm tightened around Angelina's waist. "Make preserve us."

Alistair looked over at his brother. "We'll never make it to Denerim in two days – even mounted, it's too far."

Kael held up his hand for silence. "We left a small army behind, led by the de Montforts. The chevalier reinforcements Lord Cyril sent for may have arrived by now. They will have to do their best to hold back the horde until we arrive."

"Orlesians!" Loghain sputtered. "You have not even sat on Ferelden's throne and you are already throwing our country to the Orlesians. Your father would-"

"Brother!" Riordan snapped. "We are in no position to turn down help. Those men may be the only hope we have for Denerim to remain standing until we arrive."

"We must begin a forced march to the capital immediately, with what we have. Denerim must be defended at all costs," Eamon announced gravely.

"Agreed," Gallagher's deep voice reverberated through the Greathall.

Everyone spun around toward the entryway when the doors burst open.

"Your Majesties – I apologize," Tomer gasped, sucking in a deep breath. "The dwarves are here!"

Syn had been concerned that her people would not make it here in time. It would not do for the dwarves to miss out on defending Ferelden. "I will fall back to lead my people."

Kael bowed to Syn, "It has been an honor, my friend. Maker keep you safe."

She grinned at the Royal couple and returned the bow. "It has been my honor to fight at your sides. May the stone guide you both." With a nod to the rest of the room, she headed for the door to join her people.

Eamon cleared his throat. "It is hard to remember that Syn is an Aeducan and queen of Orzammar. She does not display herself as a Royal. I find it has slipped my mind on more than one occasion," he admitted with thoughtful look towards the door she and the elf, Zevran, disappeared behind.

Heat burned in Kael's cheeks. Unlike Syn, he'd been boisterous about being king of Ferleden. It hadn't been about pride or boasting, but about taunting Loghain's supporters to come after him rather than fighting the bannorns to subjugate them or killing Ostagar survivors. Still, he felt decidedly uncomfortable. "I have been boasting and displaying my lineage like a peacock. While she remained strong and silent."

Gallagher slapped his son's shoulder. "Your goals were simply different. You sought to draw attention to yourself to protect others. She chooses to protect her identity, I suspect, to keep the attention focused on yourself and your goals. Come. We must ride. We cannot wait for the dawn or expect a small army to hold back the horde."

Riordan shook his head. It wasn't that simple. "The focus is not on Denerim surviving the horde. If we do not defeat the archdemon, it will not matter if Denerim is saved or the horde defeated. And only the Grey Wardens can defeat the archdemon."

"Of course," Kael replied with an incline of his head towards Riordan. "We need the Grey Wardens and they need us. We must work together to defeat the horde and the archdemon." One corner of his lips pulled up. "Though, it would be nice if we could save Denerim in the process."

"Save it?" Loghain scoffed. "So you can hand it over to the Orlesians?"

Kael pinched the bridge of his nose and took a calming breath. "We are all allies against the Blight, Loghain. It may have started in Ferelden, but it will soon swallow all of Thedas, if we do not work together to defeat it. Worrying about Orlais is pointless until we've defeated the Blight." He turned to look at Eamon and Gallagher. "Those that can leave with us now, will do so. The rest will depart at daybreak. Ensure we have torch bearers, so that the dark will not delay us."

Eamon looked at Gallagher and nodded. "We will give the orders at once. My brother will lead what is left of the armies at daybreak."

-BREAK ONE-

Morrigan studied Tayln a moment and then sighed. They were over half way to Denerim and they had already come across stragglers of the horde. It was time to do what she'd read about in her mother's grimoire. A ritual that would save the essence of an old God and her husband as well – though the cost was high. It would cost her their marriage, because she could not take him away from his family, friends and all that he loved. But nor could she take the chance of her mother discovering the child. It might also cost her his love. How could he love her still, if he ever found out what she'd done? Perhaps she had no right to love. Perhaps he was naught but a golden mirror that should have been shattered long before it hurt so badly.

Now. Tonight, this inn…their bedroom, would be her last chance. She'd already slipped away and performed the magic ritual needed. The potion had been dreadful, the blooding unpleasant, the spell intricate, but it was done. Her womb was ripe to take with child. Now, she need only lay with a Grey Warden. Her husband. Mayhap, for the last time. And if he chose not to mate with her, she felt no desire to approach Loghain. No. If he refused her, she would leave all the same. Her mother sought to take over her body. She would not sit around waiting to be filled like an old slipper.

He looked up from where he was cleaning his armor when he felt the heat of her gaze. "Is something on your mind?"

A slight smile pulled at her lips. "You." She walked slowly towards him. "Would he agree to lay with me tonight, I wonder. Or does that which he is absorbed in merit all his attention?

He settled the chest-piece on the floor against the leg of his chair. "I might be persuaded."

"And what if I told you that I have a plan…a way out. The loop in your hole. Whilst I was not privy to your meetings, I know what happens when the archdemon dies. A Grey Warden must be sacrificed, and while I know Loghain was spared to make the final blow, much could happen - the sacrifice could be you." She traced his ear, trailing down his neck with her finger. "This need not be."

He did not know how she knew about the sacrifice, but somehow, it did not surprise him overmuch. "If there were another way, Riordan would have told us."

"'Tis not something he would be aware of. I found what I needed in Flemeth's Grimoire. Lay with me. Tonight. And from this ritual a child shall be conceived within me. The child will bear the taint and when the archdemon is slain, its essence will seek the child like a beacon. At this early stage, the child can absorb that essence and not perish. The archdemon is still destroyed, with no Grey Warden dying in the process."

He grabbed her hand, gripped it and pulled it away from his neck. "You are asking me to help you create a tainted abomination?" He shook his head. "IF such a thing could be done, it sounds dangerous to both you and the child. If the child is born tainted, then you are sentencing him to an early death. None tainted have survived the taint for long. If the archdemon does not grow again from the taint. How could any parent do that to their child?"

"It is not as it seems. The child would not become corrupted by the taint, for the taint is dormant and will remain so. It is a…blood magic ritual that would protect the child. The child will become something different: a child born with the soul of an Old God, free of the taint that corrupted it. Some things are worth preserving in this world." She pulled at her hand, knowing the next part would be difficult for him to hear, but he failed to release it. "After this is done, you allow me to walk away…and you do not follow. Ever. The child will be mine to raise as I wish."

His hand tightened on hers, her words like barbs to his heart. "No. Even were I to consider…what you suggest, I would never abandon my child. To think I would, means you know nothing about me, _wife_."

She was, oddly, both relieved and disappointed. Many men would abandon their wife and children without a thought. But not her husband. He would also never accept her leaving. She knew that now. She would do what needed to be done and slip away in the chaos after the Blight was defeated. "You would rather risk your death than abandon your child. How noble and disappointing." She released a slow breath. "So be it. Then _you_ will not perform the ritual. I still wish to lay with you, husband. Like as not, we will not have this moment again for quite some time."

He had thought she would have been more persistent. But all thoughts of the child slipped from his mind when she straddled his lap and started removing his clothing, Tonight was theirs. The future could sort itself later – after the Blight was defeated…if they both survived. He shuddered and tore at her clothing, needing to feel the heat of her wrapped around him to sooth the cold knot of desperation that welled at the thought of losing his wife to the horde. The night would end too soon as it was.

It ended far too soon for all of them. They moved out before the dawn, torch bearers lighting the way. The mounts that could not be replaced were exhausted. They all were, but they needed to reach Denerim. During the pre-dawn hours of the second day after leaving the Inn, they'd reached the outskirts of Denerim, the stench of smoke wafting on the light breeze. Their mounts, some shaky and covered with foam, were taken away by stable lads to be cared for.

At the Denerim city gates, Kael nodded to both his brother and his wife, motioning them to join him. He hurried up the wooden steps to a platform in front of the armies they'd brought with. While the rest of the army was still en route, they would do what they could, along with the armies left behind to defend Denerim.

He looked out over the soldiers gathering around them. "Do you hear the clang of steel? Our brothers and neighbors are fighting for us! We will join the armies left behind to defend our capital and face the might of the darkspawn horde! They are hideous, but fear them not! They die as any other. And each and every one of you is capable of great things! Many of your queen's Paladins have risen from simple peasant or criminal backgrounds to rise up and defend our great nation. They are proof that glory is within reach of us all! The Paladins standing amongst you have sacrificed and survived, despite the perils they have faced. Without them, none of us would be here!" He clapped a hand on both his wife's and brother's shoulders and descended the steps. "Pull forth the Paladin within you! For today we save Denerim! Today, we avenge the death of my brother and friend, King Cailan! But most of all, we'll show those that fell at Ostagar that we remember and honor their sacrifice!" He slid his blade from its scabbard and lifted it high into the air. "For Ferelden! For all of Thedas! Let the Blight end here!" he shouted as the sun rose higher in the morning sky, making it easier to tell smoke from cloud.

With his last word, the soldiers surged forward to aid their fellow soldiers already fighting the horde. The smell of rancid taint and the metallic scent of blood clung to their nostrils as they fought for their lives. Screams and growls filled the air, the clang of steel was all but deafening. Colorful bursts of magic and arrows rained around them, felling darkspawn and ally alike.

Kael barely glanced upward when he heard the roar of the archdemon. He could do nothing about that now – he had to focus on the enemy within reach. A group of darkspawn were lifted high into the air and slammed down to the ground with a wet snap of bone. Denerim had something Ostagar lacked – The Witches of the Hills. He swung his sword, removing the darkspawn's sword bearing hand. He spun and its head tumbled to the ground.

Once the city gates were cleared, the Grey Wardens, Paladins and family surrounded Kael and Lor.

"We're doing better than I hoped," Riordan told them.

"That will change quickly," Sten grumbled and then grunted when he felt the Elvie's elbow hit the side of his armor. Her hiss of pain concerned him and he grazed his lips against hers when she lifted her face to glare up at him.

"Bloody nug runners!" Oghren groused. "We're outnumbered three to one!"

"That's what makes it exciting, my drunken friend," Zevran teased.

Riordan waved his hand. "We need to focus on the archdemon."

"Agreed," Kael said before something caught his attention. A chevalier was running towards him. He heard the unsheathing of swords. "Put them away. He is an ally."

"Your Majesties," Jean-Paul said with a bow. "The du Montforts have the armies spread throughout Denerim. The darkspawn have already breached the gates. Lord Cyril is requesting that you send reinforcements."

"Of course," Kael agreed. "Syn, Azur, Sebastian, Sten, Teagan, Eamon, father Gallagher and mother Staria – you are my generals and will have the remaining armies divided between you. I want you to all speak with Riordan and…Loghain to strategize a plan. Alistair, Lor, the rest of the Paladins and I will go with the Grey Wardens to help take down the archdemon." He hated separating the Wulffs, but they both had experience leading men into battle. And that was what Ferelden needed right now.

In short order, Riordan returned, while those chosen to lead gathered their soldiers. "We need you to choose which group will remain behind to guard the city gates," Riordan told the king.

He waited for his chosen generals to return. "Sten…I am relying on you and your men to prevent any more darkspawn from getting through. Do whatever it takes to hold them off until the rest of our armies arrive."

"You speak wisely," Sten agreed.

"When the reinforcements arrive send what you don't need for Denerim on to Fort Draken," he told the qunari. "Riordan – you will be leading the Wardens?"

"No," he said with a shake of his head. "Berchan will lead the Wardens and take his commands from you. I will need to go in separately. The other Wardens are new to the taint. If I remain with the other Wardens, the archdemon will sense us before we are ready," Riordan explained. He would have preferred to put Loghain in charge. He was a general with much experience, but also could not be trusted to remain on the field – nor did he have the respect of the new Wardens.

Kael nodded. "Since we are going after the archdemon, we will likely need to fight it above ground – or our arrows would not even reach it. Mayhap, the top of Fort Draken?"

Riordan inclined his head. "My thoughts precisely, your Majesty."

"So, we're to draw the dragon's attention," Alistair put forth. It was what his brother had done against Loghain – drawn the ex-teyrn's attention from the survivors of Ostagar to himself. This time, it would be to draw the dragon's attention away from destroying all of Denerim.

"We have little choice," Riordan said with a shake of his head, "though I warn you that as soon as we engage the beast it will call all its generals to help it. I can sense two generals in Denerim, though there are too many darkspawn here for me to sense anything further."

"That is what we are for," Sebastian responded. "You worry about the archdemon, we will take care of Denerim."

"I know where they are," Staria looked at Lor and nodded. "Sebastian and I will take out the two generals." She knew her daughter, Laura, would remain at her husband's side. Each general would face a jedi backed by an army. Two jedi would go with the Wardens and Paladins to take out the archdemon. "May the force be with us all," she murmured softly.

Riordan just blinked. How could the Arlessa of West Hills know where the darkspawn generals were. "Forgive me, my Lady, but how-"

"The how of it does not matter, Riordan. We all have our gifts and I trust in hers. They will take care of the generals," Kael informed him.

"Fair enough, your Majesty," Riordan said with an incline of his head. "Nothing you have done has prepared you for what you face now. May the Maker watch over you all."

Wynne stepped forward. "So this is it. All that we've been through has led us here. Whatever happens now…to any of us, know that I am proud – infinitely proud – to have called you friends."

Lor grinned. "You are as free with your insight as I am and I expect you to keep giving it after this is all over."

Oghren belched and wiped it mouth with a laugh. "You took in a drunken disgrace of an Orzammar warrior. You gave me a reason to fight and the will to keep going. You helped me find the one woman in the sodding world who might put up with me and you helped me get past Branka so I could have someone new. I owe you a lot. 'When from the blood of battle the Stone has fed, let the heroes prevail and the blighters lie dead.' As one of the blighters, I sodding salute you. Let us show them our hearts, and then show them theirs."

"I appreciate your words, Oghren. But I want you to focus on living – so Felsi can grease the bronto again," she teased.

He barked out a laugh. "Good one on ya, your Majesty. Let the stone turn red from the blood of heroes. Today I will be the warrior you taught me to be."

"Are you ready?" Sten asked. But he knew the answer already. These were some of the few bas he'd be willing to stand behind. "We have reached the battlefield at last. You have carried us further than I thought possible when I first met you." His gaze slid down to meet Elvie's before returning to the king and queen. "You will carry us to victory. Ataash varin kata. In the end lies glory."

Elvie looked around at the Paladins. "I'm glad I've gotten the chance to know each and every one of you. I've grown in ways I never could have dreamed and I'm proud to fight beside you. Take heart in the battle to come …and if you see a high-dragon - don't shoot. She has larger prey in mind."

Liliana squeezed Kadar's hand and stepped forward. "This is it," her voice was somber. "We've come so far. It's strange knowing all our fates will be decided in a matter of hours." She glanced up at her very large qunari. At his nod, she smiled softly. "If Kadar and I survive the battle to come, we intend to get married." She smiled at the round of applause. "So, we have every reason to make sure the battle does not take us. And since all of you are invited, I will be really cross with you if you fall... Maker keep us all safe."

Kadar slipped his arm around Liliana when she returned to him. "From a job, to brothers in arms, to family. You can always call on my sword arm, your Majesties."

"Say hello to the archdemon for me. He never writes anymore, it's rather distressing," Zevran teased. "But what would, the Stone Queen do without me? A man must go where he is needed most, yes? And do watch your back. No getting eaten. Unless you think it's really important, of course." He winked at them and moved back to Syn's side.

"So, we end this fight as it started. Together. As it should be." Morrigan's gaze settled on Lorianna. "There is much you have taught me, I must confess. To feel things that were long denied me. I feel such joy and such sorrow." She wondered if it would have been better if she'd never learned to feel at all. But she was a stronger woman now than the child who left the Wilds. "I have…found love and known friendship. For that, I blame you. But I also…thank you for it. For what it's worth, you are both what Ferelden needs. Live well, my friends. Live gloriously." She swallowed hard and turned away, her back stiff and her head held high.

"Though I may be a Grey Warden," Tayln spoke up. "I am honored to have become a Paladin as well. In as much as I can, I will always be there for you."

Jethro stepped forward. "Thank you for saving my life. Thank you for allowing that a man can change. Thank you for believing in me when I didn't believe in myself. Thank you for molding me into the man that I have become. Thank you for honoring me as a Paladin. For as long as I draw breath, I will remain your Paladin."

Lor inclined her head to Jowan. Jethro, she corrected herself. "You have earned your position, my friend."

Bethany came forward and Gilmore followed. She took Lor's hand. "Lor – if something happens…if I fall…tell my family-"

Lor squeezed Beth's hand. "Stop right there, Beth. You will survive this day and you will see your family again. Do you hear me? Death will not have his dance with you. I will not allow it. Besides, do you know what Ann would do to me-"

"And me," Alistair said with a frown. "No, you are simply not allowed to die. I forbid it. As a subject of Ferelden, you must obey the Crown Prince."

Kael grunted. If that worked, then he'd forbid anyone from dying. "Once we've won the battle, I have a mission for you and Gilmore. A mission that will be as important to you as it is to me."

"Yes, your Majesty," Gilmore responded with a bow.

"None of that, old friend," Kael admonished gently.

Neria, Ninia, and Emalynd came forth, arms locked together. "You have saved each of us, in one way or another. We wouldn't be here without you," Neria told them.

"We won't forget what you have done for us," Ninia agreed. There was nothing about being a werewolf that she missed, except for the Lady. But Lor had reached places in her that the Lady had never been able to touch.

"Thank you for everything," Emalynd said with a small curtsy. She'd caught herself, barely stopping her gaze from sliding to Sebastian. Her past was starting to come back to her. "We will need to talk after…the Blight is defeated."

Lor inclined her head to Ema and then gave her attention to the men and women that had been with her from the beginning. "My Paladins…my friends…my family…you all have a place in my heart. Be strong…fight well and I will see you all on the other side." She met the eyes of each member of her family and nodded. "May the force be with you."

"Generals. When the city has been cleared, take your armies to Fort Draken. Mother Staria, join Sten at the gates. Until the archdemon is slain, we cannot risk more darkspawn making it into the city." He looked out over the burning city, the soot in the air clogged his nostrils and anger coiled in his belly. For five years he'd been the Teyrn of Denerim. For five years, this had been his home. The look on his wife's face showed she felt the same. "Now…send those bastards straight to hell!"

He did not wait for the armies to pull out, instead, he turned to his Paladins and the Grey Wardens. "We march for the Palace District and Fort Draken!"

They carved their way through the darkspawn on the way to the Palace District. Their army was smaller, but well-trained and capable. More than that, they trusted in each other and played off each other's strengths in well-oiled precision strikes. Kael wasn't a praying man – not since Howe's treachery, but he hoped they would all make it out alive.

Lorianna froze. She felt the icy cold tingle of fear. Someone she knew…terrified…and then it was gone. "Riordan!"

Kael yanked his sword from the chest of a genlock and looked over at his wife in concern. She shook her head and he knew Riordan had not survived. He swung around until he found Loghain and caught his eye as soon as the ex-teyrn finished slaying a hurlock.

Loghain looked over the field of battle and then approached the new king and queen. "I can see by the look in your eye, Riordan is dead. I don't want to know how you know this, but I know what I'm here for. I cannot undo what I have done, nor do I expect to become a hero with my sacrifice - but if my death saves Ferelden, then it is a good death."

As much as Kael hated seeing Loghain in a good or respectful light, he did respect the notion. "That is all any of us can hope for."

"Kael," Lorianna broke in. "There are darkspawn on both sides of the square. We need to split up or risk being flanked."

"Right." Kael looked out over the Paladins and Grey Wardens that were joining them now that the field was free of darkspawn. "I expect you to put any feelings you may have aside and act as adults. Split up. I want half of you to follow Loghain's lead and take the stairs on the right. The rest will follow me. We will meet at the far end of the square." He turned away and moved towards the stairs on the left.

Loghain swallowed his shock. That the new king would put him in any position of power was hard to believe. He would not have done the same, were their positions reversed. No, he'd of had the man executed if he'd won the Landsmeet battle with Kael. He was equally stunned when people who would rather see him dead gave themselves into his command. A small smile threatened to tug at his lips. "Let's give them a taste of Ferelden hospitality!"

Kael was stunned when he noticed his brother was not on his team. He would have thought that was a given. Perhaps, he joined Loghain's team because he didn't trust the man. But he trusted his brother enough to know he would not bury his sword in the ex-teyrn's back. There was too much riding on the outcome of this battle for petty revenge. And then there was nothing more to think about than thrust, parry and dodge.

-BREAK TWO-

They met back up at the back of the square and fought their way up the next set of stairs. Darkspawn were as thick as fleas on a dog and just as welcome. As soon as that wave had been dealt with, they took a pull on their waterskins and headed up the stairs. Outside of a couple annoying shrieks, the only real concern were the three emissaries. Of course, they were of no concern to the queen. For some reason beyond their knowledge, the fade did not exist for her kind. She did not dream in the fade – nothing produced by the fade affected her. She and her mother were the only two that could not be affected by magic at all – not even feeling its presence. Kyrian and Laura could feel magic when it was used on them, but it did not harm or benefit them in anyway. Something in their blood made the fade inert.

With the palace district cleared they slipped through the gate of the large city and headed towards Fort Draken. There were relatively few darkspawn on the road to the fort, but they were entrenched in the fort's commons. Not only were there darkspawn but there were drakes as well. One would think the dragons would have been corrupted by the darkspawn, but they did not show any signs of corruption. Perhaps they did not like the taste of darkspawn, so they attacked what they did find palatable.

The more darkspawn they took down, the more slipped from the doors of Fort Draken. It was as bad as one of Varric's tales. At one point, Kael found himself back to back with Loghain, fighting off the never-ending supply of darkspawn. Relying on Loghain to cover his back was not something he ever envisioned happening. When the last genlock fell, he raised his sword high in the air and bellowed a war cry as he charged between the heavy fort doors.

He had expected to find darkspawn crawling all over the interior, but instead it was eerily quiet. Bodies lie strewn on the stone floor not far from the massive, double entry doors. Surprisingly, there were no darkspawn bodies, were the men in the fort caught unaware? Or had they taken away the darkspawn bodies and left their own men there on the floor? That was unthinkable, but so was soldiers being caught unaware. Kael simply didn't have an answer for that, but nothing seemed right about what they were seeing here.

Further in, two rooms T'd off to the left and right, but they were empty – appearing untouched even. Some of the soldiers laying outside the door of those rooms were missing armor pieces. Taken? Or, as he thought, caught unaware and unable to get their full armor on?

After passing by those pair of rooms, there were no more bodies. The following two rooms, also T'ing off from the main hall, were empty as well. No, he was forced to take that realization back. The room on the right was a place of prayer. A couple of sisters lay dead among the soldiers. Still no sign of darkspawn bodies. How were the men defeated without depleting any of the enemy's ranks?

"This is wrong," Liliana cried out, sorrow and pain in her voice. This holy sanctuary was defiled - it was heartbreaking to see. "We must put out the candle fires."

And so they did. As quickly as possible, they used rugs to beat at the flames until nothing was left but the scent of scorched wood and wool. Back in the main hall, they turned right and continued deeper into the fort. Once they passed through the archway, bodies were once again strewn across the stones. This time the bodies and the stench were all darkspawn.

Lorianna grabbed Kael's arm and pointed ahead. "I feel a familiar presence…Sandal? No," she shook her head "it couldn't be – how could he get here, I – darkspawn!"

All around them, shades appeared on the platforms surrounding them. Clever. The darkspawn mage had waited until they were in the middle of the room before conjuring the shades. "I'm going after the mage!" Lorianna shouted above the din. The mage could do no damage to her unless he beat her upside the head with his staff, so she was the best one to take him out before he conjured even more demons.

Her brother, Kyrian, joined her to further distract the mage. The darkspawn howled in rage when he realized his magic had no effect on them. She almost felt sorry for him – no…that would be a bit of a stretch. His howling ended when one of her siblings ripped his head off his body in a spray of tainted, dark blood. When Kyrian winked at her, she grinned. "Impressive."

"I wasn't sure I could do it," he said with an honest shrug. "But I knew you could do it, so why not me? I'm just surprised you didn't think of it first," he teased.

He was right. She should have. "I know, little brother. Now – let's go finish off these shades." When she turned around the rest of the Paladins and Grey Wardens joined her. The shades had been taken care of. She nodded to Kael and let him take lead again. Men had odd notions about that.

Up a short row of steps and they were through another arched entryway. There was a small sitting room, the but the main hall continued on through another doorway. As soon as they passed that door, the main hall ended in a 'T'. Kael sent half their group to the left with Loghain, while he took the rest and hooked a right. It was imperative that they clear out all the darkspawn to ensure they were not flanked when they reached the roof.

There were mages on both sides and dead pouring out of the doors in between. Corpses were weak, so the battle wasn't difficult, but it was long because there were so many damned dead that had to be beheaded to destroy. The stairs on the right, led down to the kennel. He patted Taltos' head when his war hound whined over the bodies of the warhounds. Perhaps, he should have left Taltos with Anora, but likely the dog would have escaped to follow him anyway.

They were too late to save anyone. So far nothing had survived. His wife said she felt Sandal – somewhere…somehow…he had to still be alive. But where was Bodahn? She had not mentioned the merchant. Bodahn was always with his son. It did not bode well and that was unsettling.

His group turned around and hurried towards the second group. The exit to the next floor up was on the other side. By the time they joined them, they were all in the corner of the room in front of the exit. The group parted and he and Lor passed through to find Sandal near the exit. His wife had been right. But how had he gotten here? How had he survived? Where was Bodahn? None of it made any sense.

Garrett chuckled and eyed the other dwarf. "We didn't kill the darkspawn in this room. It had to have been Sandal."

"He hasn't said much as of yet," Sebastian told the king and queen. "But I don't suspect he will."

Kael squatted down to look the young dwarf in the eyes. "Wow, Sandal. Did you kill all these darkspawn?"

"B-o-o-m!" Sandal replied. "Enchantment?"

Boom? What would have caused that big of a boom? No sense asking him, he'd never gotten more than a word or two from the young man. "No, you've done good. Where is Bodahn?"

"Gone. Enchantment?" Sandal asked hopefully.

Gone. Gone as in not here? Or gone as in….He shook his head. There was nothing he could do about it now. With the darkspawn eradicated, Sandal was probably safer here than outside with the dragon. "The castle has been cleared. Stay here. Stay safe. We will come get you when the battle is over," he told him.

"I don't like this," Liliana chimed in. "We should leave someone with him to make sure he remains safe."

Kael looked around at the bodies on the floor, an ogre included, and wondered if the young dwarf even needed their help.

"Legion," Lorianna called to her grey-sable warhound. "Stay with Sandal. Guard him."

Legion tilted his head, panted, strolled over to Sandal and sat at his feet.

Kael grinned. That was the perfect. "Taltos. Protect Sandal."

"That was thoughtful," Liliana said with a soft smile. "I feel better about leaving him now."

Kael nodded and clapped Sandal on the shoulder as he passed him by to ascend the steps to the exit. The second floor was more of a maze-like corridor. There were odd piles of dirt along the right-hand wall, but where had it come from? There were no obvious reasons for it to be there. They took the stairs up to what appeared to be a couple of bedrooms separated by a large sitting room. Even a stone bathing area filled with water, as if someone would step into it at any moment. But there were no darkspawn, so they descended the stairs and took the door at the end of the hall. A couple of darkspawn were found in the dining hall. But it was too quiet for his peace of mind. The door leading from the dining hall led to a hall of barracks. Also, eerily quiet. There should have been far more men stationed at the fort than they'd found corpses for thus far.

The hall curved around and into a room filled with waiting darkspawn archers. The Wulff siblings sent them tumbling in a crash of armor with a hard burst of power, giving them all time to dash into the room and attack before they could get back on their feet and fire arrows.

The room, itself, however, wrapped around and went nowhere, so they turned around and moved out. While their mission was to kill the archdemon, he did not consider this a waste of time. They were clearing the fort to protect their flank.

The door exiting this massive room was actually behind the door that entered from. With the door flung open, they just hadn't seen it. Likely due to distraction of arrows aimed at their hearts. That was a perfectly legitimate excuse, even for a king.

More barracks lay behind that door and three genlocks in the dining hall.

"They're here!" Lorianna cried out. "Our infantry! The armies that were following us on foot – they must have marched straight through with no rest." She released a sharp breath. "I can feel the relief."

"And here I thought they'd miss out on all the fun!" Kadar's deep voice rumbled through the hall.

"They may well catch up before we make it to the roof," Loghain put forth. "We'll need a unified assault if we hope to stand a chance against what's waiting for us."

"I agree," Kael told him. "There have been far too few darkspawn up to this point. Maybe we can spot the horde from the top of Fort Draken."

"No…I mean, yes..I'm sure we will," Loranna corrected. "But I can feel the archdemon – or what I think is the archdemon. It's a large, oily, dark presence. And she's not alone. The dark is writhing. I cannot tell one from another," she looked at her brother, who agreed with slight nod, "but there are a great many darkspawn up there."

"Great. Bet there's ogres at the top too. I hate ogres. They're always at the top…waiting to crush me into Alistair-paste."

Loghain lifted a brow, his lips tightening in displeasure. "I am glad _you_ are not the man sitting on Ferelden's throne. You are better suited to be the court jester."

Alistair crossed his arms over his chest. "Just because I don't have a stick up my-"

"Enough!" Kael's voice boomed out. "We have far larger concerns than petty grievances. Carry on, men!" He turned and led them through what appeared to be a small sitting hall to the large double doors that opened to a larger sitting room or commons area.

Two ogres rushed up the stairs along with several lower darkspawn. "Kyrian! Take care of the emissary! I'll take care of the ogres!" Lorianna yelled out. It took a lot of energy to rip the heads off of any beings. Heads didn't seem to like be ripped off. She gripped one of the ogre's in her power. It froze, its weapon falling to the stone floor with a loud clank. She pulled in more energy, pinpointing it on the ogre's neck, she could see the muscles constricting and straining. "Good riddance," she said as she yanked her hands in different directions.

The ogre's head tumbled off its shoulder and rolled with an awkward hitch, due to the large horns, until it butted up against a chair's leg. She could swear the eyes looked at her for a moment and she turned to look at the body. The ogre's hands were covering the stump of its neck, as if trying to halt the geyser of blood. It wavered for a moment and then its legs went out from under it, causing it to fall almost gracefully to the ground.

She heard shouting and grabbed her lightsaber a moment before a massive hand gripped her around the torso and lifted her into the air. The pressure increased, sending waves of pain through her body. She brought her arm up and pressed the hilt under the ogre's chin. It roared, spittle spraying over her face and hair. She ignited the lightsaber. A golden plasma blade appeared out the top of its head. "Someone doesn't brush their teeth," she muttered, trying to keep the contents of her last meal tucked in her belly.

Its fingers loosened and she slipped down through its hand, her lightsaber drawing down the length of its body, separating it in two halves, each half neatly cauterized, except where it tore at the face, its lower jaw bone snapping at the chin like a wishbone from the weight of each half going separate ways. Her lightsaber had gone.

Her feet hit the hard stone and her knees failed to lock properly, her body still in shock over the ogre's painful grip. Before her feet were solidly planted, she was whisked backwards and found herself in the middle of her Paladins, buried in her husband's tight embrace. "I'm fine...bruised, but fine."

"I'm not fine," he replied harshly. He lifted his hands to grip the sides of her face. "I will never be fine in a life without you in it." He dropped his forehead to hers for a moment and released a ragged breath before he stepped back. "You are forbidden to die." He straightened his shoulders and pointed up the stairs. "Those doors," he said in a booming voice, "will take us to the roof. Let's finish this!"

They burst onto the roof of Fort Draken, crowded with darkspawn and allies alike. The dragon sent bodies flying with each whip of her tail and head.

Lorianna lurched to a stop and stared up at the archdemon. It was the same size as Elive in dragon form, but that was where the similarities ended. It was rotted and putrid, covered in strange growths. Its eyes having a milky sheen as if it were blind, though that was obviously untrue. It had no problem seeing its enemies. That was when she noticed the damage done to one of its wings. As if huge claws had ripped through it, slicing the webbing. Not claws…daggers. The rip was far to even to have come from a claw. Riordan…had he somehow-"

The archdemon's head struck out, snatching a soldier in its jaws. Blood sprayed as its teeth sank deep into the man, whose shrill screams could be heard above the clash of steel. The man, however, was beyond saving. She squeezed her hand into a fist and jerked it to the left, breaking the man's neck with her power to grant him a merciful death.

The archdemon inhaled and belched out purple clouds that set everything it touched ablaze. "That's not fire," Lorianna remarked in confusion.

Jethro rushed forward and sucked his breath in when the archdemon belched out another purple cloud. "No…she's a spirit dragon. Spirit magic doesn't set fire to anything. That shouldn't even be possible."

"It's the corruption, is it not?" Morrigan inquired. "Who is to say what the corruption can do to a high dragon or an old God?"

Lorianna looked over when a mage rushed out the din and hurried towards them. As he drew closer, she recognized the older mage. "Irving? Is something wrong – well, besides the archdemon and the darkspawn?" She had not thought Irving would be a part of the battle himself. He had not been among the mage army sent to Redcliffe. Apparently, he and a few mages went straight from the Circle to Denerim.

"It would seem that you have covered what is wrong at the moment. But, uh…" his gaze swept over the people that had accompanied the king and queen and could not find the face he was looking for. Not that he wasn't relieved to see Wynne was alive and well. "Is Elvie…"

"Oh," Lorianna said in surprise. "No, no. She's fine. She is protecting the city gates. Though, she did say if you see a high-dragon, don't shoot."

Relief flooded through Irving. There was much he needed to say to Elvie. Much she had a right to know. "Ah, I was unaware she'd mastered the technique." He had never come close to mastering it himself. "You have quieted an old man's heart, your Majesty." He inclined his head to Wynne. "Maker watch over us all."

When he hurried off, she realized most everyone had already joined the battle. With a sharp exhale, she focused on the archdemon and closed her hand into a fist. Its spirit's breath choked off, but the choke hold did not appear to do any further damage. She tilted her head. This was going to be interesting and more difficult than she first thought.

As the battle waged on, and morning became afternoon, it seemed they spent more time fighting the darkspawn that sought to protect the archdemon, then the archdemon herself. It was proving hard to do much damage to the thick hide of the corrupted dragon. Heavier weapons and ballista bolts were able to do more damage, but swords and daggers? Unless they got in a lucky blow, it did little more than scratch her. Still… those scratches bled and the eventual loss of blood would begin to tire her. Lorianna smiled when she heard the battle cries of more soldiers as they burst onto the roof to join the battled. Their infantry had arrived.

A roar split the air as a shadow passed over the room. Lorianna shielded her eyes and looked up to a high-dragon circling the fort's roof. The dragon folded her wings and dove down towards the archdemon, who raised its head and shrieked at he descending dragon.

The archdemon, flapped its destroyed wings and jumped, trying to move into a better position, the small things at its feet forgotten. It opened its mouth and breathed out its spirit fog. The high-dragon rolled to the side and sent a jet of flame at the archdemon. The corrupted dragon screamed in pain and jumped away with a flap of torn wings, but it could not get away from the high-dragon that shifted her trajectory with a shift of her wing.

The high-dragon opened her talons, drew her rear forward and slammed into the archdemon, feet first. The force of the blow sent the archdemon tumbling onto its side, claws tearing into its neck and ribs. With several strong wing beats, the high-dragon rose back into the air, barely avoiding a blast of spirit fire.

The archdemon shoved off of the stone, forcing her legs to take her weight. She staggered and then roared out with a desperate cry for help. She swung her barbed tail, taking down as many darkspawn as enemies. Pain was blinding her to anything but the pulse of its agony. She slipped in a puddle of her own blood, but managed to keep her footing. She released a blast of spirit energy, only to have it choked back. She shook her head and struck out at a hurlock that fell back against her sore side. She snapped her jaws closed over the offender, shook it and tossed it when the foul blood touched her tongue. There was a loud clack, followed by a sharp pain in her lower neck. She roared in new agony and gripped the large shaft bold with her claw and wrenched it out of her. Fresh pain nearly overwhelmed her as hot blood poured down her chest.

She slipped again, this time her legs went out from under her. Her claws scrabbled on the stone for purchase. Another loud clack, followed by excruciating pain in her side. With a high-pitched keening roar, she stumbled and fell hard against the cold, wet stone. She lay there, panting in unimaginable pain. Something was driving her to rise. She had a purpose, but it was hard to remember through the fog of pain. She blinked her eyes, trying to fight back the encroaching darkness. Darkness that once soothed her now terrified her. She had a purpose…she lifted her head from the stone and forced her legs to move. Blinding pain ripped through her and her head fell heavily to the stone.

Loghain stilled as the fighting stopped and for a moment, there was nothing but silence as if the world waited with bated breath. He kicked the hurlock off of his sword and ran towards the archdemon. At first, he thought it was dead and fear, like icy daggers, ripped through him. But then he its his side slowly rise and fall, as if each breath were a struggle. With a hoarse battle cry he ran towards the archdemon, who had seen him coming and was struggling to get to its feet. It had just managed to raise itself on its elbow and lift its head and neck off the stone, he dove as low as his armor would allow and scored his sword down the dragons' less protected throat and then stabbed it deep into the hollow where the neck meets the chest. The dragon fell with a choked gurgle and lay still. "For Ferelden," he cried and with all his strength, he plunged his sword straight down onto the dragon's skull. Power whirled around him, but he didn't let it stop him from his grisly work. He continued to push, forcing the blade slowly through the hard bone. A soft cry of victory slipped passed his lips when the sword finally moved faster, piercing the archdemon's brain. A massive way of power burst out from the archdemon, hurtling his body through the air. He landed hard, unable to draw in a breath, darkness threatening to close in around him. So, this was what it was like to die. He'd thought it would be different. Life – mistakes – joys rushing through his mind, but there was nothing, just an encroaching darkness.

Kael picked himself up off the stone, his wife and those around him also rising to their feet after the vicious blast knocked them down. All eyes went to a lone figure not far from the archdemon. He approached Loghain's body, uncertain what the ordeal would have done to the man' body. The journal he'd read was not specific about the after details. Once he reached the body, he knelt over the prone form an turned him onto his back. He staggered back in horror when the corpse groaned, nearly falling onto his backside. "This-" His throat cracked and he swallowed hard. "This is not possible. He'd dead. Or he should be. Kadar – watch him. Do what you have to if he doesn't act like himself." He looked over at the rest of the soldiers on the roof, all eerily silent as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Don't let a single darkspawn leave this roof! Once they are dead, I want every Grey Warden assembled around Kadar. If the archdemon has found a new home, we need to know."

Before his words died down, every darkspawn on the roof fled towards the double doors. But as the king demanded, not a single darkspawn left the roof, except for a few soulless beings that plummeted to their death from the roof's edge.

When the last darkspawn fell, a cheer went up from the survivors. Mage, dwarf, elf, Orlesian…right now nothing mattered to them except the Blight was over and they survived. They would mourn those that were lost later, now was the time for the living.

A round of hugs and back-slaps ensued, each man and woman happy to still be breathing and at peace because they knew the Blight was over. There was a lot of rebuilding that still needed to occur, but again… that was for another time. Kael heard the screech of a hawk and looked over to see one flying overhead. The bodies would need to be taken care of before more predators arrived.

While the soldiers, of all ranks, cheered, they began to start dragging the bodies were separated. The darkspawn were tossed on a pile to be burned. The allies were sorted between dead and wounded. Nothing would be done to their bodies until each and every one was recognized and accounted for. Each of their names would be recorded as heroes that gave their lives for Ferelden. They would not be forgotten.

Kael returned to Loghain's corpse, hoping the man was well and truly departed.

"He breathes," Kadar informed the king. "Do you want me to kill him?"

Yes! "No. I will not kill a defenseless man, no matter how much I may wish to. I intend to reign with honor.'

"I can't believe it! He's alive?" Alistair blustered, having overheard what his brother and Kadar were discussing. "Riordan told us… _you_ told us that wasn't possible!" At his brother's look of warning, he lowered his voice. "The taint was supposed to go into him, killing them both! That is why he was allowed to live!" he hissed.

"Kael looked over the assembled Grey Wardens. "Do any of you feel any different?" They could lie, it was true- they would need to be watched closely. "Kadar – can you pick him up while he's armored?"

Kadar rolled his massive shoulders. "Not going to be a problem."

"Has anyone seen my wife?" Tayln asked in alarm. Was she dead? Had he lost her? His heart wrenched in agony.

Lor stretched out her senses to feel for Morrigan presence. They had become close enough friends that it was easy for her to feel the other woman. "She's not here," she responded in a stunned, hushed tone. "She's not dead - I can feel her …but she is growing more distant."

"The hawk!" Kael blurted out. "I saw a hawk flying away from the tower. I assumed it was eyeing the dead for food, but…why would she leave?" His head swung around to catch Tayln gaze. The man was obviously devastated. "Do you know what's going on?"

"Possibly," Tayln replied tightly. And if what he suspected was true, how could she have done that to him? "We will discuss it in a more private setting."

"Fine," Kael said with an incline of his head towards the Grey Warden elf. "Then let us assist in finding survivors and then return to the castle."

-BREAK THREE-

Three hours later, the darkspawn bodies were burning and the ally bodies were sorted. They would start anew on the morrow, recording the deaths and seeing to their bodies. Right now, they had to help the injured, eat and sleep.

By the time they reached Sandal, Bodahn was there giving his son an ear blistering about the dangers of taking off on his own and how he'd nearly given him apoplexy. Sandal took it all, an innocent look on his face. The young, dwarven lad had simply wanted to be there in case they needed last minutes enchantments before fighting the archdemon. He must have known his father would have balked at putting themselves in danger and thus he sneaked away. And that made him wonder how many darkspawn deaths within the fort's walls were due to Sandal.

In the Royal Castle, a healer and guards were watching over Loghain, while servants and soldiers alike were drawing water to fill tubs, so that those covered in darkspawn blood could bathe. After baths and a quick reunion with family, the Paladins and Grey Wardens adjourned to a private room. The guards following the Grey Wardens stood guard outside the room.

"I apologize for the guards," Kael told the Grey Wardens. "But until we find out why Loghain did not die and what happened to the Old God's essence, I had to take precautions."

"We understand, but it's not necessary anymore. I know what happened. My wife assisted me with my armor this morning and while I was removing it for a bath and to clean it, I found a note pressed into the lined pocket on my chestpiece." His fingers clenched around the note and he fought to loosen them. "My wife betrayed me," he said in a voice hoarse with emotion.

Tayln explained the dark ritual that she'd wanted him to agree to the night they'd stayed at the inn. He had refused the ritual because he'd not wanted to abandon any child like she'd demanded. But he had bedded her. "The note explained that she'd already performed the ritual and was fertile when we were together. Agreeing to lay with her was all the spell required from him. Loghain didn't die, because the Old God's essence is in my child – a child she stole from me. The Blight is over, Kael – but I must go for now. I intend to hunt down my wife. I will not let her take my child from me."

Kael felt his wife's hand tighten in his and swallowed hard. "This child…will it become a problem?" he asked in a controlled voice. If an Old God was released on the world, what damage could it do?

"No," Tayln replied, with a sharp shake of his head. "She told me that once the tainted essence sank into the…baby, the spell would destroy the taint. She assured me the child would not be a danger." But what were her assurances and promises worth? She'd betrayed him in the worst way.

Kael nodded. Despite the words, he was not reassured. "Nevertheless, we shall remain vigilant and so should the Grey Wardens. Even if we cannot tell them why. What was spoken of here, does not leave this room. And thank you, Tayln, for staying for my coronation."

"We have been through too much together. She will not take that from me as well," he replied solemnly.

"If there is anything, we can do to help you find Morrigan…"

"Thank you, my friend," he told the king. "But this is my burden to bear. The path I walk is a solo one."

"Understood," Kael acquiesced with an incline of his head. "Just know we are here for you should you need us."

-BREAK FOUR-

Four weeks into Denerim's clean-up, Fergus Cousland and a small Cousland cavalry arrived at Denerim. Kael hadn't been able to keep the smile off his lips. He could see a sadness in his older brother eyes, but he was alive and Highever had its teyrn back. There had been a break in the clean-up for a small celebration that night and come the morn, they put their backs back into it.

Six weeks later, Ferleden's capital had been scrubbed clean of the Blight. The dead burned, the injured healed or healing, the names of those who fell were engraved on a stone monument and most of the buildings that had been damaged were repaired. What could have taken months only took weeks thanks to the armies staying to help set things right. Even the Orlesian Grey Wardens decided to help when their Ferelden brothers refused to leave Denerim until the coronation. Orlesians, Fereldens, mages, dwarves, elves worked side by side, they'd shed blood, sweat and tears together and many friendships had grown from the shared bonding experiences. Old scars were beginning to heal. What was happening now should have happened years ago. Keeping themselves separated from the Orlesians had allowed prejudices to take root and strengthen on both sides. So long as there was a wall standing between the two nations, there could be no healing…only festering.

Loghain, still kept under guard for his own protection and perhaps to ensure he did not try to kill any Orlesians, had healed from whatever he had gone through upon the archdemon's death and had assisted with the clean-up as well, though he had a perpetual frown on his face. The first few days after his recovery, he stopped throwing insults and taunting the Orlesians. Perhaps because it garnered no results, or maybe he was starting to see that this is what Ferelden needed to heal from the past.

While Denerim was only the beginning of the massive rebuilding Ferelden needed, it was what Kael had required before the coronation could proceed. After the coronation celebration he would send out troops in all directions to aid in rebuilding Ferelden.

For now, the Paladins and nobles from near and far filled the Great Hall in the Royal Palace. Musicians and longtables full of food and drink were set outside for the soldiers, peasants, elves and the rest of Ferelden to be a part of the celebration.

Kael was dressed smartly in a gold trim blue doublet, to honor his parents by wearing Cousland colors. Lor was also dressed in a sapphire blue gown with gold filigree woven throughout the soft material of the dress. Her pale, honey-blonde waves were swept into a fancy updo. Diamonds adorned her throat, wrists and ears. She eyed her dress warily, or more precisely, the heeled slippers she wore beneath it. "The things I do for you," she groused. "But you are so beautiful it makes my heart ache…how could I refuse you?"

A flush of heat bloomed in his cheeks. He did not have the more elegant beauty Tayln had, but his golden good looks and titles had always earned him far more attention than he liked. "My beauty could never compare to your own," he said as he held his bent arm out to her.

She settled her hand on his and walked with him down the stairs and into the Great Hall. The walls and upper balconies were lined with nobles and Paladins alike. He held his head high as he escorted her down the center carpet. He escorted her up the guard-lines stone steps and then knelt down on one knee.

Mother Perpetua approached the kneeling king. "Do you vow to put the needs of Ferelden above Your own?"

He looked up at the older woman. "You have my solemn vow."

She nodded, held her hand out towards the king and blessed Ferelden, his reign and his future heirs. She then picked the golden crown up off the velvet pillow and settled it on his head. "Make bless your reign, my king. She bowed and stepped back as Kael rose to a stand.

Kael held his hand out to his wife. She placed her hand in his and knelt down on one knee in front of him. "Do you vow to rule at my side as Ferelden's queen, placing the needs of Ferelden above your own?"

"I shall always have Ferelden's best interests at heart. This I so swear."

He grinned at her subtle play on words. It was not exactly what he asked for, but he trusted that his wife would always do what was best for Ferelden. He gave her fingers a light squeezed and then released them to pick up the smaller, jewel crusted crown and settle it on her head. He took her hand once more and helped her rise. His lips brushed hers and applause resounded through the Great Hall.

After this day, they would once again lock the crowns in the vault. Neither of them cared to wear them. But for this one day, they would look the part of king and queen. "Nobles, friends and family, we are gathered to celebrate not only my coronation but also the men and women that who stood beside my wife and I – for without them, none of this could have occurred – your queen's Paladins. Paladins," he said waving a hand towards the raised dais beside him and Lor, "please join us on the dais."

He waited a moment while they ascended the stairs to form a line to the left of their queen. "These valiant souls gave up their own needs to help us regain the throne and defeat the Blight. I owe each of them a debt I can never repay. But I will greet each Hero of Ferelden by name and grant them a boon – some boons may be granted at a later date. Crown Prince Alistair Theirin. I grant you the title Teyrn of Gwaren as well as the hold Castle Gwaren. Lord Berchan Wulff – Paladin and Grey Warden and his wife Lyrica Mahariel Wulff – Paladin and Grey Warden. I hereby grant you the titles of Arl and Arlessa of Amaranthine as well as the fortress of Vigil's Keep. Elvie Amell, I grant you the title of Arlessa of Denerim along with the Denerim Estate. Angelia Tabris, I grant you the title of Bann of Denerim Alienage. Taylin Tabris, your boon will be granted at a later date. Ser Gilmore MacLachlainn and his wife Bethany Hawk MacLachlainn, your boons will also be granted at a later date. Syn Aeducan, queen of Orzammar, I will release Zevran Arainai from his obligations with my wife to be your loyal bodyguard. I also will send skilled soldiers to help you clear the Deep Roads. Zevran Arainai, your boon will be granted at a later date. Oghren Kondrat, I grant you and your intended, Felsi Bartin, Claymore Inn on the outskirts of Denerim, along with the Manor house on the property. Sten of the Qun, I know of no boon that I can offer you, since you will be returning home. Just know that your loyalty will not be forgotten and that you will always be welcomed here in Ferelden, were you to choose to find a new home. Jethro Melner, your boon will be granted at a later date. Kadar Adaar and his wife, Leliana Adaar, your boons will come at a later date. Wynne of the Ferelden Circle, I grant the Ferelden Circle independence. Templars will assist with Harrowings for safety's sake alone, but once a mage has had a successful Harrowing, the Circle can decide the freedoms they are allowed. Garrett Brosca, I hereby grant you Wythorn Estate and its lands in Highever. Ninia Walston, Neria Surana, and Emalynd – I grant you Layton's Crossing. There are two small Manor houses and a tavern on the property. It lies to the west of Denerim."

He inclined his head to his Paladins and returned his attention to the crowd. "Ferelden would also acknowledge the entire Wulff family for their support and dedication. My wife and I have agreed that it is time for Kyrian to take his place as Arl of Western Hills. Gallagher and Staria Wulff, I grant you the titles of Teyrn and Teyrna of Denerim. We also give our thanks to Arl Eamon Guerrin, Bann Teagan Guerrin, Sebastian Vael - Prince of Starkhaven, Lord Cyril de Montfort and the Orlesians he commanded, Bann Darling Telmen and her fight to save the Bannorns, Thana Aeducan for giving her sister Syn the ability to remain at our side, Bodhan Feddic and his son Sandal for providing for our needs during our nationwide journey. Thanks must also be given to the Saoirse clan of dalish elves for their assistance in the Blight. They are hereby granted territory in the Hinterlands, north of Kokari Wilds, including Ostagar. We will send soldiers to assist with clean up. Finally, we give thanks to Anora Mac Tir Theirin for her continued loyalty and support throughout the years."

Lorianna held her hand to her friend and motioned for her to join them up on the dais. When Anora took her hand, she squeezed her friend's fingers. "My dearest of friends, you have given and lost so much – I cannot bear to leave you with nothing. If we have to create an Arling, we will-"

"I don't think that will be necessary," a voice boomed out over hush of the crowd. Fergus waited a moment and then stepped out of the crowd and moved up towards the dais. He knelt down on one knee at the foot of the stairs and looked up at Anora. "Lady Anora Mac Tir, will you agree to be my wife?" He had grieved for his wife and still grieved for his son, but he had always loved Anora - from the moment he'd first seen her, his heart belonged to her.

Anora's shaky hand rose to her throat, her fingers trembling, but her blue eyes remained locked on his honey-brown eyes. She thought she'd have to wait. It was not uncommon to grieve for six months to a year. But now…she was about to have the man she'd always wanted. The only man that had ever touched her. A smile spread slowly over her lips and she launched her self down the stairs and into his arms, he'd barely risen in time catch hold of her, but she didn't care if they'd both ended up on the floor. At this very moment, nothing mattered but Fergus. "Yes!" She looped her arms around his neck and yanked him down for a kiss.

There was stunned silence for a moment before whistles and applause echoed through the Greathall. Kael slipped his arm around his wife's waist. The boons he'd granted had stunned the nobles into wary silence. He was grateful his brother had come forward to claim Anora when he had. Not only for Anora's sake. The distraction had been badly needed. He knew he'd have to explain his decisions over and over and sooth rumpled feathers, but not now – thanks to his brother, the new Teyrn of Highever.

He followed his wife down the stairs and hugged Anora and his brother after his wife was through squeezing the life out of them. "I'm happy for you, brother. I know, despite everything…that you will be happier than you ever thought possible. "I'll see your banns posted and we'll have your wedding in a week's time, if that is okay with you. So many will wish to attend the wedding, we should arrange it while they are still here."

It only took one look at Fergus to know that he agreed with a quick wedding. "I never thought this day would come, and now…I don't want to wait another moment." She turned to look at Lor. "We'll wed as soon as you can get it set up,"

Lorianna laughed softly "No time like the present." They wanted to wed and as queen, she could wave the posting of the bans.

In less than an hour, Anora and Fergus stood before Mother Perpetua, who blessed their union. Loghain has been allowed to come in and watch the proceedings.

Loghain watched in silence, his eyes damp, but no tears fell. The irony was not lost on him. He'd worked with Howe to try to kill off the Cousland line and it was a Cousland that married his daughter and gave her the title of Teyrna of Highever. He was grateful they had given him the chance to see his daughter wed to a man she apparently loved beyond reason. But it was also apparent he felt the same way about her. That was enough. He did not know if he'd ever see his daughter again after today, he would be riding out with the Orlesian Grey Wardens after they broke their fast. But he would leave knowing his daughter was safe and happy - that was all any parent wanted for their child.

During the celebration, Emalynd set down her glass of wine and moved slowly towards Prince Vael and his wife. She only had to wait a moment them to stop talking and look at her. "Would the two of you give me a private moment of your time? There is something we must need discuss."

"Of course, Ema," Laura said. She took her husband's arm. "Come with us." She led them to a hall off the Greathall and into a study. They settled in stuffed chairs. "What is on your mind?"

"My memories. I know who I am now and I know who you are as well, Sebastian," he told them baldly.

"I know who I am too, Ema," he teased. "But it is good that remember now. But tell me…what does your memory have to do with me? I have never met you before."

"No…you haven't …My name is Emalynd Pentaghast Vael." She looked up to meet his shocked blue eyes, so similar to her own. My mother is Lady Darlynd Pentaghast, my sire is Crown Prince Henrique Vael. "I have always wanted to meet my half-brothers, but our father has always paid me a monthly stipend to stay away from Starkhaven. And so I have. When I heard you were exiled, I hired men to find out where you went. I followed." She absently rubbed her right forearm where a knife blade had poisoned her.

Sister…he had a sister and he never knew. His father had been clever at keeping all knowledge of her hidden. He'd honestly never thought much about bastard-born children, he'd never considered them worthy until he'd met Kael and Alistair. Kael was one of the most noble men he'd ever had the pleasure of meeting. His pious father had been unfaithful to his mother. Infidelity was common place among nobles and royals alike, but he'd always thought his father above such base actions.

Sebastian and his wife had listened to the Paladins tales and knew they'd found his sister near death. "How did you get hurt?" he asked quietly. He'd nearly lost her before he got the chance to meet her…to know her as a sister.

"I was…attacked in Lothering – a poisoned knife blade. I fought them off, killed one and wounded the other before the poison took effect. I hit my head on the hearth when I fell and woke up with no memory of anything that happened." Emalynd shrugged and tucked a dark curl behind her ear. "I do not know why I was attacked. I am an apostate," she admitted, "but I am careful and I do not think the assassins knew. Perhaps our father knew I was following you and thought to stop me. Perhaps it was mistaken identity. Perhaps for some reason I cannot fathom. But I survived, thanks to the Paladins, and I joined their cause.

He did not want to believe his father would be capable of sending assassins after his own daughter just to keep her paternity a secret, but then he also would never have thought the man would be unfaithful. He did not doubt Emalynd's words. She resembled him far too much for her not to be a Vael. She even had Vael -blue eyes – the color found only in the Vael bloodline. A smile tugged at his lips. "I am glad you found me. Laura and I will be staying in Denerim for a time. I hope you will consider staying,"

"You will have a room at the Wulff estate," Laura told gently. "I, for one, am glad to have another sister.

-BREAK FIVE-

Lorianna knew that the time of her Paladins was over. She loved them all and did not want to see them go. But she knew they had lives to get back to. There would always be work to keep her busy. Ferelden needed rebuilt and reformed. Still…that would never ease the ache of watching them go. A small grin flitted across her lips. Her mom probably felt the same way when she left. It's hard to let go, even when you know you have to.

A week later the exodus began, the Orlesian soldiers, led by the de Montforts, left Denerim to return to Winter's Breath bannorn, Tayln left to find his wife and unborn child, Sten left to return to the Arishok, and Syn and Zevran returned to Orzammar.

A few days after that, with tearful goodbyes, Fergus and Anora left for HIghever and Ninia, Neria, and Emalynd went to see to their new holdings at Layton's Crossing. Shortly thereafter, another wedding was held at the Royal Castle. Bann Teagan Guerrin quietly married Angelia Tabris. Angelia turned the Alienage bannorn over to Shiani and the she and Teagan left for Rainesfere. Oghren slipped away after the wedding without any goodbyes.

Seven weeks later a missive was sent to the king from Bann Darling Telmen, explaining that her mother had shown her a parchment that had been on her as a babe. She was not, in fact, a Telmen by birth. Her birth mother was Clarisse de Montfort, half-sister of Empress Celene and deceased wife of Prince Renaud. Her father was, indeed, Maric Theirin. The parchment she'd read stated Marric was sending an honor guard to retrieve his daughter after her birth. Darling went on to explain that her mother and father purchased her from bandits after the death of their newborn daughter. She believed the guards were attacked, the coach robbed and she was sold for more coin. She finished by telling him that she was sorry that she disbelieved their claims and freely admitted she was a Theirin.

Kael looked over at his wife after he finished reading the letter out loud, a grin split his face from ear to ear. "You were right. There are now three living Theirins." The smile slipped. "It is unfortunate that she will be moving so very far away."

Lorianna slipped her arms around her husband's waist. "We will make arrangements to meet up with her and Cyril. We'll see them again. I have no doubts."

Alistair was stunned to find out he had another sister. Before Ostagar, he was a man with no real family, now he had more family than he ever could have dreamed off. Even Gallagher and Staria were treating him as if he were their son. He now had everything he ever wanted…except for Ann. He would be leaving soon. He'd done his duty by Ferelden, he'd worked with Kael and Lor to find a reliable and honest man to be his chancellor for Gwaren during his absence. Gwaren had been neglected for too long and he wanted to ensure the Teyrnir would be in good hands until he could return.

Around this time, they received a missive from Felsi. She and Oghren had gotten married and she was now managing the Claymore Inn. She also told them that her nug-head of a husband was showing promise in keeping up the inn's maintenance and not running off the customers.

Lor grinned at that. He'd pretty much given up booze and it was making a difference in his life.

One by one all of her Paladins were leaving to go live their lives. She missed them terribly, as she knew she would, but she was also happy for them. Kadar, Leliana and Niloh left not long after Felsi's missive. Wynne was going wherever she was needed most, to help heal the injured and care for the poor. There would always be need for mages like Wynne and Fereldens were a bit more accepting than they once had been. Wynne wasn't ready to retire to the Circle, Lor wasn't sure if she ever would be.

A week and a half later, a missive arrived to the Wulff Estate in Denerim for Berchan. He was made Warden-Commander of Ferelden and he was given the responsibility of rebuilding the order in Ferelden. Since he would need a place to rebuild the order and since he needed take care of his duties as Arl of Amaranthine, he, Lyrica and Fen began their journey to Vigil's Keep. But they did not go alone, Emalynd and Ninia rode out to join them. The two were seeking more adventure before they settled in at Layton's crossing. Somehow, Ninia had gotten Garrett and Jethro to manage the tavern while they were away. Garrett was very good with numbers and was a natural businessman. Jethro ended up tending the bar and listening to people's woes. After what he'd been through, he didn't judge anyone, he simply listened. Lor giggled when he told her how shocked he'd been with the amount of tips he'd received his first night working at the tavern. She knew that wasn't his dream job, but he was content helping friends out for the moment. She also knew he had feelings for Ninia, though the ex-werewolf seemed oblivious to his feelings.

Much to Lor's surprise, Thana Aeducan arrived at the castle. She was so much like her sister, yet so very different. Syn was hard, driven - a noble betrayed by her brother and her people. She was a woman who wanted what was best for her people even if she had to tweak a few beards to get it done. Thana moved frequently, making new friends where she went and knew nothing but love. But the one thing she'd lacked when she warmed the throne was adventure. Thana wasn't done with adventure yet.

Less than two weeks later, Alistair, Thana, Sebastian, Laura, Elvie, along with her old friend, Neria, left on a long sojourn to Kirkwall. Sebastian wanted to speak with Varric, find out what he could about his family and discover who had helped him escape from the chantry.

In the end, that left only Gilmore and Bethany and her husband didn't even let her keep them close by. In that infamous Grey Warden journal that he'd read there were hints at a way to free a Grey Warden from the taint – and more than anything, he wanted to give that to his brother. He gave the journal, mounts and a hefty sack of sovereigns to Gilmore and Bethany and asked that they do whatever was necessary to fine a cure for the Grey Wardens' taint.

Even Bodhan and Sandal rolled out of Denerim to begin their old merchant routes once more.

And that was it. Her Paladins were gone and she filled that hole by keeping busy - much of her work was with Bann Shiani of the Denerim Alienage. Shiani was not diplomatic by nature and it was often up to her to sooth ruffled noble feathers. But the Alienage was already showing signs of improvement. She hoped one day it would become a bustling working-class community.

One nice bit of news was that her mother and father were now, living in the Royal Castle's opposite wing, as the Teyrn and Teyrna of Denerim, as she and Kael had once done with Cailan. She felt relieved knowing Denerim would be in her parents hands every time she and her husband needed to attend to the bannorns and arlings of Ferelden. More than anything, she knew that she and Kael could weather any storms life threw at them – they'd already proven it – to themselves and to Ferelden and no matter what happened, they'd continue to prove it.


	13. A Thedas Tale Ch13 - Awakening Epilogue

Dragon Age

A Thedas Tale

Ch-13 – Awakening Epilogue

Ok, I'll be honest, I didn't feel like writing Awakening right now. Nothing makes any real difference in the future, I simply wanted to introduce Anders and Nathaniel and start a plot twist, which I have done. If I have enough requests, I will go back and write Awakening. If not, I shall move ever forward with DA2 and DAI as well as my other stories.

-Epilogue-

Nathaniel cocked his shoulder against a thick, heavy support beam in the great hall of Vigil's Keep. The Keep was damaged, but the fortifications they'd made had kept it standing. Might take a while to get her back to what she once was, but it wasn't his problem anymore. His old home belonged to the Grey Wardens now and since the Commander of the Grey, Berchan Wulff, decided against allowing him to partake in the Joining, the Keep meant less than nothing to him now. He was a man with no home, no lands and a name tarnished by his father's reprehensible actions against Ferelden.

Sure, he worked alongside the Wardens to save Amaranthine from the darkspawn and now he was helping with the repairs to the Keep, but he knew that sooner or later they'd push him out. He doubted he, Oghren, Ninia and Ema would be allowed to remain much longer. And that was okay. He wouldn't be leaving empty handed. He had Emalynd. He would go with her to meet her friends and family – and prove that he was not the man his father was. He had no illusions to that being an easy path to walk. He could not change the past and many would not past his name. He would be judged by his father's crimes, but he would prove them wrong.

He frowned at Oghren's snores; the dwarf was passed out in a corner of the great hall. At least it was sleep that claimed him and not drink. He wasn't sure why the dwarf chose to bed down in the hall. There were rooms and even a few cabins near the Keep. But Oghren preferred the great hall. Maybe so he wouldn't have to build his own fire to keep warm. A small laugh slipped from between his lips. He didn't doubt that for one bit.

Oghren had arrived at the Keep with a need to do something – anything that didn't have to do with being a father. But he seemed more at peace with himself now, though that probably had more to do with Berchan and the womenfolk than it did to him. He was hardly in the know-how when it came to parental advice. But he knew the kind of father he wanted to be – hoped he'd be. And lately, he'd been thinking about the kind of husband he wanted to be. He loved Ema. But legitimate or not, she was royal by both lines and he no longer carried a title or had means to support a wife and family. Until he did. He would be unable to ask for her hand. An abrupt noise yanked him out of his thoughts and he straightened when he saw Berchan standing next to him. "Sorry, I was woolgathering."

"Done my fair share of that. Nothing to worry about." Berchan lowered his gaze to the floor and sighed, his hand raking through his hair.

Berchan was not usually the type of man to beat around the bush. But it was obvious something was bothering the Commander and he was pretty sure it had something to do with the new Grey Warden arrivals. "I think I know what this is about. We're no longer welcome at the Keep, are we….Commander?"

Berchan's brows rose. Nate had a good head on his shoulders and a solid grasp of what was going on around him. He would have made a good Warden, but he was an honorable man. A man that had the ability to remove the taint from the Howe name and the last known male of the Howe bloodline. Once he'd had the chance to get to know him, he couldn't let him go through with the Joining. Making him a Grey Warden would have been a grave disservice to the young man. Just as he'd rejected Oghren because he was a family man. Both men needed the chance to prove themselves.

His head shook slowly back and forth and then pursed his lips. "I have no quarrel with you remaining; Weisshaupt doesn't agree with me. So, I've given up my post here at the Keep. It's time for my wife and I to do our duty to the Arling. There is a holding outside the City of Amaranthine. Rockthorn Hold. Seems that's as good a place as any to establish ourselves."

Was he bitter that he would never be the Arl of Amaranthine, which had been his birthright? Yes, but now that he knew the truth of his father's crimes, he lay the blame at the feet of the only man responsible. Rendon Howe. It sickened him that he'd been blind to the man his father had become. Granted, he'd been away for some time, but how could he have so misjudged a man? He shook the thought off. There were more pressing matters to attend to. "My uncle often wintered at that Hold. It is smaller, thus easier to keep warm. I have been there a few times. I would imagine it would require some… _upkeep_ to be worth of an Arl. I suspect the locals would assist, if nothing else but to get in Arl that saved the city's good graces."

"Smaller," Berchan grunted, a grin pulling at his lips. "That would be a matter of debate. I saw her from a distance. She is no Vigil's Keep, but it is a large enough fortress to suit our needs. My coffers are deep enough to get the fields planted, pens filled and the Hold repaired. Furnishings," he said with a shrug, "may be lacking for the nonce."

Nathaniel patted the Commander's shoulder. "You will see I'm right about the locals."

Berchan rolled from heel to toe. "What I'm telling you is that you are welcome to a room at Rockthorn, if you want it."

"Oh," that hadn't been what he was expecting at all. But Berchan was the type of man he wanted to be. A man with a good heart. "You are most generous. It is a relief to know I would have a roof over my head were I to be in need of one. For now, I have promised Ema that I would return with her to meet her friends and family."

"Maker's balls, you have grit," Berchan choked out. "Though I respect your decision. Kael and Lor…er, the king and queen are fair folk. _You_ didn't hurt them and they won't let your father cast a shadow on you – so you make sure you don't either, because others won't be so understanding. If you cower under Howe's weight, the people will flay you. It's up to you to show them who a real Howe is."

Nathanial nodded his head. "I intend to."

He clapped Nate on the shoulder. "Good man. I mean that, Nate. You are a good man. I'm proud to have fought with you at my side. Now, do what you need to, we'll be leaving within a fortnight. I'll let sleeping beauty know when he wakes up," he said as he motioned towards the sleeping dwarf. He blinked and then pulled a wax sealed parchment from his pocket. "This arrived for Anders."

Nathaniel nodded and hurried from the hall, the missive in hand. He found the girls and the rest of the Wardens around a fire in the middle of a grouping of servant huts, which fared better than the Keep had. This area of the grounds had been spared by the siege. That was a good thing since he and several others had chosen to live in the huts rather than the Keep. Oghren, Sigrun, Barchan and his wife Lyrica lived in the Keep. The dwarves simply because they liked being surrounded by stone. Ander's and his girl, Ninia, shared a hut. He and Ema shared a hut. Velanna, much to everyone's surprise, was sharing a hut with Sergeant Brenda Maverlies – a human, no less. While Velanna was still wary around humans she did not know, the old hatred no longer burned like a fire inside of her. Justice had his own hut primarily because the body he was inhabiting had a cloying stench of death about it, no matter the herbal remedies he was doused with on a daily basis. He did not expect Justice would remain in Kristoff's body much longer.

Ema patted the log space next to her and he seated himself with a slow exhale. Sir Pounce-a-lot walked across Anders' lap, over Ninia and Ema and curled up on his lap, the cat's claws kneading his thigh in a less than pleasant manner. He absently stroked the orange tabby.

"Traitor!" Anders grumbled good-naturedly at his cat. He watched the cat lift his head, look straight at him and yawn, its pink tongue curling up. At times he wondered if he should have ever cast an intelligence spell on Sir Pounce-a-lot when he was a kitten. It was a spell he'd learned at the Ferleden Circle, from a restricted tome in Elvie's chamber that had told him how mages increased the intelligence of mabari. He'd never considered using the spell before - not until a kitten Ninia had found abandoned at the Keep and given it to him as a gift had made itself a home in his heart. And with that love came a fear of losing the kitten to death. If he were smarter, he would have a better chance at survival. Well, it had worked. At times, perhaps too well. "See if I sneak you a mackerel treat later.," he huffed.

Ninia leaned in with a soft laugh and nuzzled his ear. "My lord is too soft to forego such a treat to his beloved Pounce." Sometimes she would tease him and call him her prince. Though, technically, he'd never been a prince. He father had once warmed the Anderfels' throne. But there had been whispers of treason and he'd willingly accepted the First Warden's plan for that rumor to die with him. He agreed to have himself declared dead and forever be exiled from the Anderfels if the First Warden would protect his wife and brother from the rumors. His father eventually married a Ferelden maid, became a thatcher of roofs and thus, Anders had been born Declan Thatcher instead of Declan Auguistin.

It had been a selfless thing Anders' father had done. Giving up his throne to protect his family. The queen had gone on to marry the younger brother, Wilhelm. But she wondered how this "rumor" started. She'd heard rumors in her travels that the First Warden ruled the Anderfels through a puppet king. A king he perhaps was responsible for putting on the throne? Not that it mattered at all anymore, it all happened before Anders was born.

"You know me so well," he crooned back at his lover, not caring that he had a goofy smile on his face. Ninia is the only person he'd ever told about who he really was – who his father had been. His past was to remain buried, but he'd wanted no secrets between them. He had people he considered friends – people he still missed…Karl and Elvie had been the closest to him during his time at the Circle. But even with them he'd remained silent. Ninia was different. He'd gone from a man who enjoyed women to a man who only wanted one. That realization had nearly brought him to his knees. He wanted to ask for Ninia's hand, he just needed to figure out how. He was a Grey Warden now. Berchan, the Warden Commander, had saved him from the Templars. He owed the Wardens his life. He would figure it out, he always did.

He grinned at Nate when he saw the folded parchment handed down from one person to another until it landed in his hand. "Ohhh... a gift just for me? I love it when people recognize how incredibly handsome and talented I am."

"Isn't perspective wonderful?" Sigrun snorted. "You'd think people who are so tall would have more of it."

Anders' brows rose and he looked across the fire at the dwarf that had scoffed at him. "I'm hurt. You don't think I'm handsome and talented?"

"She thinks _I'm_ handsome," Voldrik cut in. "And _very_ talented…if you know what I mean," he proclaimed with a waggle of his thick brows.

"Ewww!" Anders groaned at the stonemason. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that...or see it," he grimaced, hoping something…anything would get that picture out of his mind. "Don't you have a wall to fix…or something?" He glanced down at the wax seal and frowned. It was his father's seal. Made from ring he'd worn when he was king. His glaze slid down to his own ring, a ring his father had given him during one of his escape attempts from the Circle. It was a matching ring to the one his father wore. The only thing he had of his once birthright.

Tuning out the talk around the fire, he slid his thumbnail under the wax seal and broke it. He unfolded the parchment carefully. His father's words dropped the ground out from under his feet. His mother was ill and his father was injured. His father was requesting his return to help him care for Gwendolyn. Of course, he would help take care of his mother. It had taken years for him to forgive his father for turning him over to the Templars, but his mother had always tried to protect him.

The parchment crackled a bit under the pressure of his hand when his fingers tightened. He rose from the log on unsteady legs. "It is time for me to make a grand exit. Not as exciting as my entrance, but as you can see there are no darkspawn for me to set afire."

"What a strange human you are. You say that as if you wish it were otherwise," Velanna groused. "You are a Grey Warden – can you just leave like that?"

"That is so sweet, Velanna. Will you miss me while I'm away?" Anders grinned. "I'll be back. I just have…family matters to take care of." He glanced over at Lyrica, sitting next to Velanna. "Will you let Berchan know that I'm not running as I did from the Circle?"

"Of course, I will. Send a message when you can," Lyrica told him.

Anders nodded. "Ninia…" he murmured.

Ninia followed him into the hut that they shared. She had heard the regret in his voice. "I'm not going with you, am I?"

He dropped the parchment on the scarred wooden table and turned to pull her into his arms. "This is something I need to do on my own. It concerns my past. Leaving you here protects my future – our future from my past. I'll return when I can." Mayhap, things were as his father wrote. But he couldn't be sure if his father's whereabouts had been discovered and was forced to write the missive, so that this side of the Augustin line could be eliminated. He was not willing to risk Ninia's life when he was not sure what awaited him at journey's end.

She gripped his shoulders, her fingers sinking into the feather pauldrons. "I cannot stay, I have obligations I must yet meet. When you are able, go to Layton's Crossing, just west of Denerim. I'm one of the owners of the Day's End and live in the manor house closest to the tavern. I'll light a candle in the window every eve until you return to me."

His hands lifted to cup her cheeks. "No mage I know has ever dared to fall in love," he murmured, his lips brushing over hers. "No woman has ever ensnared me so completely. There is no life worth living without you in it. I'll look for the light to lead me home." He kissed her once more and then quickly packed a small, leather satchel. "Make sure Ser Pounce-a-lot has someone to look after him, this is the only home he's ever known."

Lyrica slipped her arms around Ninia as the woman watched her lover disappear down the road. She couldn't imagine what once werewolf woman was going through. She'd been able to remain at Berchan's side. The thought of watching him walk away was unbearable.

Nathaniel moved in next to Ninia and gave her arm a gentle squeeze. "Many of us will be leaving within a fortnight. Vigil is to be left to the Grey Wardens, the soldiers, and their spouses. Our time here is over. It would seem that we'll be taking with us tales no one would believe."

"I'm used to that," Oghren grumbled as he ambled over to the fire and plopped down on the ground, his back against the leg of a log bench. He scratched his sweaty groin and groaned. "It's the husband and daddy parts I'm not used to."

Unlike many of the others, Ninia was not disgusted by the crotch itch. Living as a werewolf and often bothered by fleas, she and all their kind were guilty of scratching everywhere without thought. "You will get used to it faster than you think. As soon as your baby's tiny hand grips onto your finger, you will find yourself willing to do anything for that child. I think you'll do fine, Oghren. Your nugget needs her father." That wasn't something she ever thought she'd say when she first met him, reeking of ale and belching out an introduction. She wouldn't have wanted that Oghren anywhere near a child.

The dwarf tossed a small twig into the flames. "Damn right, she does. And I'm going to be there to make sure no one ever hurts my little Lorica-Nugget. Not even me." He'd named his baby girl after the two women in his life that showed him he could be a better man than he'd become. And then, like a weak nug-humper, he'd ran and fallen back into the bottle instead of facing his fears like a man and overcoming them. Which was exactly what he was going to do when he returned home. So he dropped his Nugget….twice. She had his blood in her veins. A little fall wasn't going to hurt her. Maker's balls, he'd been a fool. Now, he would be a man.

Two days later, astride a bay pony with a white belly named Roy, Oghren set out for Claymore Inn on the outskirts of Denerim, the inn and manor house King Kael had granted him and Felsi. He didn't want to wait for the others. His Nugget needed her daddy.

A few days hence, Ninia's world shattered when soldiers arrived at the Keep with news of a battle that had taken place not two leagues from the Keep. A ring was found in the charred ruins and once it had been shown to Berchan, he had known who it belonged to. The ring now hung around her neck on a thin strip of leather. She would never have the chance to have the life she'd envisioned with her mage, but she intended to heed her promise and keep a candle lit in the window of her manor house until she was ready to move on.

The following week Berchan, Lyrica, Sigrun and Velanna bid Ninia, Nate and Ema farewell. The trio were returning to Denerim. Berchan, Lyrica, Sigrun and Voldrik would be leaving in another day or two. Voldrik had agreed to see to the safety of Rockthorn Hold's walls before returning to supervise Vigil's repairs. Sigrun had been eager for a change of scenery as well. She called it another _adventure_. He supposed it was, if rats and disrepair were your main foes. Welcome foes, indeed. They all deserved a break from the stench of darkspawn. Velanna had chosen to stay at Vigil, at her lady love's side. She was the only one of the Grey Wardens he'd conscripted that chose to remain at the Keep, though Sigrun would be returning.

He hadn't seen anything of Justice since the spirit released Kristoff's corpse to his wife for a proper funeral. Mayhap, the spirit had returned to the Fade. Though the spirit had been unbending at times, he would miss his company. He only wished the spirit would have bade his farewells to them.

He spent the next two days getting the new Warden arrivals settled before mounting up to ride out to his new Hold. He would be there for the Wardens if he was needed, but right now he had to focus on his responsibilities to the Arling. He slowed his mount and looked back at the Keep with a frown. He'd been unable to keep a promise to Ninia. He'd promised to bring Ander's cat to his new Hold, but the cat had not been seen for days. The seneschal did promise to care for Ser Pounce if the orange tabby came back. It was the best he could do. With a final nod to the guards at the gate, he nudged Stryker into a trot.


End file.
